Welcome (Back) to Gravity Falls
by Sleepy Apricot
Summary: Three Season Sequel to Gravity Falls ten years later. New episode every few weeks (Will take a few years to finish). New characters. Rating may change later on. Full description inside. I do not own Gravity Falls or any of their characters (I love them all though 3), but I do own mine as well as any new creatures.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, and thanks for clicking on this document to see what it's all about! So I'm making a three season sequel to one of my favorite shows. I've shifted the focus of the show to some new characters. If you saw the season finale, this picks up about ten years after that when Gravity Falls has grown into more of a small city than a sleepy town. There will be new creatures as well as the return of a few of the original ones. There are many many mysteries to uncover since Mabel and Dipper's final visit to the town. A _lot_ has gone on since they were there.**

 **There will be twenty episodes per season, sixty episodes total, and each episode (except the first one) will be twenty five to thirty pages long.**

 **I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it! This is not really meant for publicity, in fact I originally planned for this just to be a fun writing project for myself and my close friends. I did it for fun, and want to keep it loose and a fun experience! But I already had a fanfiction account and so ultimately decided, "why not? I have an account and three and a half episodes done, why not share it?"**

 **So here it is!**

 **(P.S: I drew the picture on the cover of the doc., but feel free to use it as long as you can credit me!)**

 **(P.P.S: I'm keeping the stories to Disney Channel's format and to the original Gravity Falls show format so no real swearing, and some adult jokes that, as Stan says, go _right_ over kids' heads! :P)**

 **Episode 1 Prologue:**

He strained, trying again to recover what he'd lost. It was, however, peculiar because he did not know exactly _what_ he was trying to remember, only that there was a longing gnawing at his stomach for some form of substance to fill it. His senses reached out to four appendages, each limb tensed and shaking from sheer effort. But like always, the strain became too much, outweighed the longing, and he relaxed back into lonely oblivion. He'd lost count of how many times he'd tried.

The Void. It was cold and icy and barren. He wasn't used to feeling, that much he knew. Wherever time was, whether it was making a tree spread its arms above and catch the sun, or giving a soul a long and happy life, it had forgotten him. There was no time here. Only darkness. He remembered nothing. There was nothing.

A cold wind made him shiver. It came from his right side. He turned, an action he hadn't ever remembered taking. Everywhere he'd looked before was the same, just nothing. A very bright light made him shield his eye. The light source was rectangular, and for the first time in he didn't know how long, he recognized something. _A door._ Light, coming from a door. He followed it, and found his… _legs,_ stepping on cold hard ground underneath him. Air moved around him like it never had before, and the sensation scared him. But he kept stepping forward anyways, feeling a strong urge to be free.

Once he was only a step away from the door, he outstretched his arm and stopped. One single thought manifested in his mind, and his fingers curled, slowly making a fist. Fury bubbled in his core, and the air around him became warm, then hot, then scorching. He didn't know why he thought this, but every part of him was itching, _screaming_ to remember what the thought meant. He said it over and over in his mind, mulled it over, felt it searing a deep permanent hole in his subconscious. … _Pine Tree…Pine Tree…Pine Tree….. Pine Tree._

 **Episode 1: Welcome (Back) to Gravity Falls**

Cricket stretched her arms out. This test meant a lot to her grade. She had twenty minutes left of it and about ten more questions. That was time enough. She breathed in, breathed out, and picked her pencil back up in her lightly aching hand.

The classroom doors swung open, making way for nearly a hundred students to busily file out. Cricket, being right in the middle of the herd, got a few elbows dug into her stomach and a few accidental flat tires. A conversation taking place on her right caught her attention.

"That test was really hard. 29 was the _worst._ "

"Ugh I know. At least the prof is half decent."

"That test was really hard. 29 was the _worst._ "

"Ugh I know. At least the prof is half decent."

"Yeah! That test was a real doozey." Cricket interjected, trying to start up a conversation. "Hey, wanna hang out? I know the _best_ pizza place we could swing by-"The boy and girl were already half way down the hall. As she looked around, she saw that she was alone. Cricket knew the test hadn't been hard and she wasn't really hungry. She readjusted her backpack and headed toward the sign that said " _Library_ " with an arrow pointing south. She walked by herself in the empty hallways, muttering " _That was the easiest test I've ever taken."_

 _..._

A redhead stretched her arms out, accidentally bumping the guy next to her for the third time that hour. She mumbled a quick apology and stared out the window of the bus with blooming optimism. The town wasn't far away now. She could just see it over the horizon. An old Diner sign was the first thing that caught her eye. She squished her face against the glass. The horizon line gave way to a quaint little town. The woods around it seemed to cradle it, wrapping it in protective and secluding trees and brush. The town itself was quite busy. People milled in and out of shops that lined the streets. Buses like the one she was riding opened and closed their doors, people spilling out and hurrying in. One intersection showcased a car dealership with a large sign that read _No More Raccoons in the Engines._ Another corner revealed a plaza with a three story apartment complex on one side and a row of little shops including a little waffle house on the other. On one far side of the town someone heaved as they threw out a black garbage bag in a junk yard. " _Cool._ " She whispered. A ways away from the town itself was a range of mountains that stretched for miles around. She sat back in her seat. Things would be different here.

...

Cricket got a call. She was sat in the library, reading up on astronomy. Next to her was a stack of books easily as tall as she was, one containing advanced mathematical theories, another on the history of botany, and one that was written in Latin.

She'd forgotten to turn her ringer off, and she fumbled to silence it before answering the call.

"Hey." She said, turning the page of the dusty old book.

"Yo. Dude, I love this place already." The other side crackled with excitement.

"Oh, you're here! That's fantastic! Have you decided what to do yet?" The last word faltered as Cricket noticed something in her book. The other person didn't seem to catch the change in tone.

"Yes, I'm gonna go today. I _know_ I could stay home, but Like, what would I even _do_ there? It'll be much more fun to go to school on my first day instead, even if it would only be a half day."

Cricket got up from her seat, book in hand, and went in search for another book. Her finger brushed over the backs of a row of stacked books, none of them being the one she was looking for.

"Hello?" The voice on her phone made her answer in a rush.

"Oh! Uh, sorry, I'm a little distracted."

"What book is it this time?"

"… Advanced Astronomy."

"Of course it is. Alright, you finish your nerd book and I'll see ya at the apartment, okay? Okay. Bye, love ya sis."

Cricket felt a shiver down her spine. She turned quickly and saw a thick old book sitting on top of a stack of anatomy books. She answered absent- mindedly before hanging up. "Bye, love you." Stuffing the phone into her back pocket, she relaxed her hand at her side and cocked her head. This wasn't like any other book she'd seen at the library before, and she'd basically had the whole thing mapped out. She stepped forward, and felt a sudden anger for some reason. _Pine Tree._ She heard far off in the distance. But when she peered in the direction of the whisper, she saw nothing. Brushing the thought away, head clear, she picked up the old book. It was heavy.

Now back at her table, Cricket took her seat, cleared a space for the new book, and set it down. The back was facing her so she turned it around and squinted, intrigued. Mahogany covered the ancient- looking tome, with some clear scrapes having been ripped off of it revealing a light grey brown base. Sitting on top of the brown- red cover was a large hand cut out of some gold material stuck on it. The hand had six fingers, and a big… _number two_ was hand-written with clear precision on top.

Cricket opened it slowly, careful not to break it as any book this unkempt had to be fragile. She gasped. It was an absolutely terrifying and expertly drawn… monster. It had a long and arched beak with two slitted eyes at the base and jagged spikes going down its scaly back. It had four powerful arms and legs and two gigantic wings. And a tail as long as it's torso with a trident- like end.

 _Dragon_

 _Origin is unknown_

 _Age is unknown_

 _Deadly, avoid at all costs_

 _Weakness Unknown_

 _I encountered this creature only once. It was sleeping on top of an enormous pile of gold and jewels. I managed to grab a few before it woke up. Now that it recognizes my scent I'll have to stay away, but I needed the stones to help fund my project._

As Cricket kept reading, she found herself flipping through the pages. The most interesting thing was that all of the creatures were anatomically plausible. Muscle mass, body structure, everything was possible. She rested her head on her hand. _I might be here a while._ She thought to herself.

...

"Lunch time. My kinda scene." The redhead said triumphantly. She held a tray with a sandwich, chocolate milk, and a muffin in her hands and hurried over to the doors of the cafeteria. "If there's one thing I know, it's that all the action is outside." Scooting the door open with her waist, her eyes widened and a big grin overtook her face. It was perfect.

When she'd first arrived, the front of the school didn't look very promising. Just a boring, uncolorful two- story building. But the back revealed that another two buildings had been constructed, and were very new. One was long and winded around a good half of the campus. There were a few murals on it. One depicted a bird, wings extended as if in flight, with a pastel rainbow in its wake. Another was a slightly darker forest scene with a bright canopy at the top and shadowy underneath. Two students were busily painting away. One was a boy, impossibly tall, dark- haired, wearing a green shirt and skinny jeans. The other was a super short girl with a dark pony tail and a baggy sweat shirt and boots. _Looks like that mural's not done yet._ If she wasn't mistaken, that was the fine arts hallway. The other building was a two story one with a light brown finish and undertones that kept with the original color scheme of the school. It looked kind of like an observatory, what with the dome shaping the ceiling, but she didn't know its exact purpose. Far off she spotted a football field. She squealed with delight.

Upon entering, she'd been given a few papers to sign and a schedule, but she could not care less about that stuff. She was here to have the time of her life.

A few guys wearing football jerseys were standing under a tree, chatting. "Ooh, they're on the football team!" One was telling a story to the others. As she got closer, she overheard it.

"So then he was like, 'but dude you can't just take that extra bag of chips', and I was like, 'my hand is on the bag already and I'm putting it in my pocket, this is happening', and then he was like-" He stopped short, looking at the new set of eyes who's attention he'd caught. He slitted his eyes and looked her over. She was tall, maybe 5'8, with a red pixie cut and a button nose. She wore a green and black jersey stretching over broad shoulders with an orange tank top underneath, grey jeans, and darker grey shoes. He snorted.

She sized him up. He was shorter than most guys. He sported a dirty blond quiff, white muscle shirt with a blue number 8 on it, and work out shorts. He seemed cool, so she was confident.

"Who are you?" He jumped off the bench he was standing on.

 _Shorter than me. Huh._ She thought. "Bea Atwood." She extended a warm hand. He just stared at it. He took a few steps forward and looked to be about to say something, but then glanced back at her hand as it seemed to bother him that it was as close as it was. He daintily brushed it away and Bea took it back, smile fading, but not _completely_.

In her head she had a little mini conversation with herself.

 _I don't like him, he's a jerk face._

 _Shut up! You're here to make friends not enemies!_

 _Jerk face, he's goin' down._

 _At least give him a chance, it's way more than you got._

 _…_ _fine._

"Bea, was it?"

She nodded, but before she could speak up, he cut her off. "Buzz of, will ya?"

His friends all laughed at his joke, and Bea backed away. She was clear out of her element, where usually the more popular kids liked her.

"Ha ha, yeah. That was a good one. I'll see you later." She waved and turned away, sulking off. Usually Bea had no trouble making friends with the jocks. Her old school had accepted her into their group without a second thought. _Maybe it's because I grew up with them._ She searched for a group of friendly faces. Everyone around her seemed to already know each other. All around her were close-knit clusters. And after the fiasco with whoever that _jerk_ was, she was in no mood to talk to people.

Taking her seat on a far off bench, she began to eat. Surveying the scene, she watched those around her having fun. Her gaze drifted to a group of six hanging around under the bleachers. Another squad of seven were sitting on top of the bleachers, two of them running around trying to push the other over. The five still sitting were chanting "Push and Plummet! Push and Plummet!" Bea guessed it was a game that involved trying to push the other off the bleachers. _Looks like fun._ She had a similar game back at home. While recalling the game in her head, she absent- mindedly drifted her gaze to the murals again. The two students working on it tirelessly were giggling at each other. One smeared paint on the others arm, and they returned the favor. Something about the tree they were painting was off. _The shading doesn't indicate a clear light source._

Almost without thinking she set her tray down and walked over to them.

...

Cricket poured over the old book. It was utterly fascinating. Then a thought popped into her head. _I've got to check it out before the day is over!_ She carefully closed the book and fast walked to the counter. A short and stout librarian eyed her with a perpetually irritated expression.

"Um," Cricket said shyly. "I'd like to check this book out." She set the book down on the counter. The librarian took it and looked puzzled. She searched round for something, and laid it back down with a plop. Cricket flinched. She was handling it like a piece of garbage.

The librarian typed hurriedly on her keyboard. She squinted at the screen, and then slowly turned back to Cricket.

"What are you trying to pull here?" She asked sourly.

"Uh, pull? I-uh-um, well- I'm not trying to _pull_ -"

"This book doesn't have a bar code, it's not even registered in the inventory. As far as I'm concerned, it's yours." Her tone dripped with irritation and the note echoed off every wall, giving the entire room a distasteful air to it.

"Huh?" Cricket took the book back and stared at it.

"Yeah. So, take it and get out." The librarian said dryly.

"Um, okay." Cricket went back to her seat and tucked the tome in her backpack. Looking at the clock, she was surprised to see that it was already two o'clock. The time when she normally would go back to her dorm. Only this time she was going to her new apartment at her uncle's complex. Last night was her last night in her dorm, the day she'd finally moved her things out in preparation to move in with her sister, Bea.

Cricket headed for the doors.

...

"Students, please open your computers and find this website. We'll be doing a scavenger hunt." The teacher started writing on the white board the URL for some sciencey- website. Bea wasn't paying attention. She was picking her tooth with one of her fingers, still fretting about the bad encounter with Mister Jerkface. Her eyes surveyed the classroom. Her eyelids flitted for a second, recognizing someone. _The tall guy from the mural. We've got the same class!_ Normally in this situation, Bea would do her best to not disrupt the classroom as she had nothing against teachers, but she _needed this._ Someone she could be friends with on the first day.

Ripping a piece of paper out of one of her notebooks, she wrote out a short letter to the guy.

 _Hi_

 _I liked your artwork at lunch today. What's ur name?_

 _I'm Bea, the one who was looking at it earlier._

She folded it into a paper airplane and flung it in his direction. It landed in his hair, but he didn't notice. Bea dug her face into her hand. The teacher was about to turn around and notice that he had an airplane on his head! She swung her head around, trying to find a way to fix the situation. She balled up another piece of paper and threw it to a kid on the opposite side of the classroom. He flinched and drew his hand up.

"Yes, Douglas?" The teacher took it as a raised hand. The student fumbled for words. Now, while she was distracted, Bea balled up a second piece of paper and threw it at the tall kid. It hit his desk and he turned around to see who had thrown it. Bea waved her hand in the air and pointed to her head. Then she made a pulling move as if to pull something from her hair. The kid felt his head and was surprised to find the airplane. Unfolding it, he read the letter, smiled, and quickly wrote underneath Bea's writing. He sent the flying paper back.

 _Thanks lol! I'm Connor btw. R u new here?_

The conversation went on for a little while.

 _Ye. I was just trying to find some people to hang out with. There was a rly mean guy at lunch, that one in the big group, what's his deal?_

 _Zanderick? No idea, but he's a real loser. Do you like vid games?_

 _I love vid games! But I don't have a console. Do you?_

 _Yeah. Do you wanna play vid games today after school?_

 _Yeah! Is it ok if we go to my apartment tho?_

 _Sure! Meet me in the cortyard after school ends and we can go dood._

Bea shot him an excited smile, and he gave her a thumbs up. The only way she could really describe him was silly. Looking closer at his desk, she observed tons of scribbles and doodles on his paper. One was more detailed than the other that formed a giant robot terrorizing a city with its laser vision. He followed her gaze and made a scary face at her, silently roaring and fake stomping on the floor. Bea laughed. He wasn't her usual choice in friends, but she found it okay.

...

 _In all of my years I have never met anyone more intellectually compatible._ Cricket studied the words. Next to the writing was a quick sketch of a triangle with an oval inside.

 _Illuminati confirmed._ Cricket snickered. New and crazier drawings surpassed those before them as she turned each page. _Cycloctapus. Funny._ The sunlight was replaced by shade in a matter of seconds. Cricket quickly scanned the sky and gaped. They were rain clouds. A branch obscured a part of the now darkened sky and the very next second she tripped on a root. Scrambling to her knees she pawed around until she found her glasses. Her eyes went from slits to fully open again. Cricket reoriented herself. _I'm… in the forest! But how? Darn it, I must've not seen where I was going. Where's the town?_ She picked her new book up and packed it away. Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she took a few steps forward. No sooner than that, it started pouring.

The only thing Cricket was wearing was a long sleeved shirt. _Bummer._ The next few soggy steps her sandals sloshed noisily in the newly formed mud. But on she trudged. The tall pines above her gave no hint of the town being anywhere nearby. Rain pitter pattered on her head, making her short brown hair five shades darker and stick to her head. Streams of freezing water streaked down her face. Only a minute later all of her clothes were sopping wet. "This won't do." She commented, and stood still. She inspected her surroundings and spotted a big and tall mass about a hundred feet away. It was an oak. She ran in the direction of the tree. It was relatively dry underneath, so she leaned against it, shivering. Cricket drew her arms around herself and sat down on the dry crunchy forest floor. Her back pack fell around her left arm and the book tumbled half way out. It appeared to be calling to her. She inched her hand closer, wondering if she could just spend a few more minutes looking at it. With one swipe, she took it out and reopened it. _No use in going back out there. I could get a nasty cold, or worse. Hypothermia. I'll wait the storm out._

Wind cut through the towering pines. The raindrops that collected on the leaves of their outstretched branches were quickly swept off again by the turbulence. Cold descended to freezing, which in turn descended to deadly icy. Up on the canopy of the oak, a lone owl huddled in its nest to keep warm. Off in the distance, a red pointy hat ducked behind a bush and into a hidden hole.

Cricket was turning blue. _What the heck! It's_ August. _It shouldn't be this cold._ She'd already put the book back in the back pack, where she'd also stuck her hands. A tremor shook her whole body. "Do or die." She thought aloud. "I have to keep moving. I'll make it back, it's not a big deal."

She headed back out into the rain. Lightning illuminated the sky and thunder rattled the air around her. The sound smacked against her eardrums as loud as anything. She swayed to one side as an aggressive current of air barreled through. Cricket's body was shoved backward. The bushes around her were pulled momentarily upward like a curtain along with her, and under one of them was a glimpse of red.

"Woah." She crawled to the bush and lifted it again. She could've sworn she saw a tiny pair of hands. Lifting herself back up again, the sound of… _Maracas?_ There were maracas sounding off somewhere to her right.

 _I'm more lost than ever._ Another round of bullet- rain hit her straight on and she shielded her eyes. She slitted one open and observed a tiny humanoid creature with a red pointed hat scamper across the clearing on all fours. She teetered backward, swinging her hands around her for balance. But the oncoming water blinded her again. She marched forcefully forward, determined to leave this creepy forest behind and get home. _Left foot, right foot. Left foot. Right-_ Her right foot felt nothing underneath, and painful adrenaline shot through her body in an instant. She dropped down, down, down. For a good two and a half seconds, all Cricket felt around her was air. She flipped onto her stomach just in time, for her hands collided against sloppy, mushy ground. It was a bad landing. Then her knees hit, then her stomach. She rolled forward with tremendous force. The mud didn't do much to stop how much she tumbled.

Her body halted a few yards from the base of the ravine. She tilted her head up and sluggishly opened one of her eyes. The other was caked over with dirt and oozing mud. Cricket couldn't see much, dark shapes of the trees' arms ripping through the wind, the wall of the cliff she'd just fallen off of. The droplets of water made little short- lasting inward hemispheres in the sludge. For a moment she pondered the sight, taking comfort in that the mud acted as a kind of insulation against the unforgiving wind. For a time she sighed and let the noise of clapping thunder, drumming and percussious cloudburst, and whistling wind act as a chorus and lull her to a state between conscious and unconsciousness.

Two rapidly moving shapes darted out from between two trees. Cricket was half roused from her trance and watched them get closer and closer to her weakened self. She was too tired to do anything, so she closed her eyes again and let the unconsciousness take over. A new chorus of little chirps and hushed tones drowned out the thunder and rain right before Cricket's train of thought melted into stew.

She was warm. Darkness gave way to pink and red. Little orange shapes flickered across her vision. She lazily fluttered her eyes open. The one wasn't caked in mud anymore, there was just a thin dry layer that cracked under the pressure.

A few feet away was a small mass of lit candles. Each one had an elegantly carved holder perching them up. Beyond the candles were arched wooden walls. The space was small and rounded around her, nest- like. She perched herself up on her elbows, breaking the fetal position she was in. Her hands and feet pounded with blood and seared, as if thawing out. The storm outside rattled the exterior.

"Woah, Gary, she's up." The high pitched voice made her twitch and locate the source. To her right side stood a miniscule man half the height of her calf. He wore suspenders made of burlap over a light blue worn shirt. He sported a conical red hat and a bushy brown beard that covered his jawline. Cricket's eyes turned to saucers at the sight and her jaw was slack.

"Wanna be careful, unless you want termites to crawl all up in there." The little man was referring to her gaping mouth. She half closed it, furrowing her brow in disbelief. He chuckled. "And trust me," He continued with a cringe, "That'll happen." He burped, and the next moment a small crowd of the creatures waddled through a doorway that Cricket assumed held another maze of rooms. She scooted herself upright and put her knees to her chest, marveling at the impossible spectacle.

The tiny men made room for another one of them to walk past. This man's suspenders were light brown and his shirt was red. He positioned himself on a mound of twigs and branches that made him a bit taller than all the others.

"How are you?" He asked, extending his miniature hand. "The name's Gary."

Cricket took the hand, still unable to form words. "Uhh…" She trailed off.

"Here, lemme explain before you incoherently mumble anything else. Kay, so… I'm a gnome. We live here, and we've lived here for a very long time. And don't worry, I don't bite- well, _I_ don't bite, but I can't say the same for some of these guys-" he vaguely gestured toward the others, one of them snapping his jaws together-"but we saw you out in the rain and decided to take you in until this whole freak storm blows over."

Cricket nodded and took her hand back, gently placing it back on her knee.

"You doin' okay?" Asked Gary.

She just nodded.

"We've got some hot water, you want any of that?"

Another nod. An image floated through Cricket's mind, one she saw in the journal. It described an encounter with these gnomes. Her thoughts traced back to her red book. She peered behind her but it wasn't on her back anymore. Some of the gnomes got visibly uncomfortable. She pointed behind her.

"A… book, a back pack. I had one on me before I fell." She turned to look at each of them. "Did you get it? Is it with you?" Silence.

Gary came back with the hot water looking very displeased. He handed it to her and she sipped.

"Where did you get it? That journal?" Gary questioned in a low even tone.

"So you _do_ have it?"

"Where did you get it?"

"… I found it. In a library."

The gnomes murmured amongst each other, and Gary lifted a hand to quiet them.

"I want that book back." She said, her tone gaining more confidence.

"Trust me, you really don't." Thunder crackled outside.

"Why?"

He stared at the ground. "Bad things happen when people have that journal. I won't stop you from taking it back, but I must warn you of the danger that it brings with it."

Cricket's heart quickened. Danger? What kind of danger could a book about fantasies have? _But wait, no. It's not fantasy. It's all real. Well, at least the gnomes are._ "I'll have the journal back, thank you."

Gary frowned. He snapped at the same time that more thunder crackled and held his hand out behind him. Three gnomes carried Cricket's battered back pack out and she took it in her hands. Checking inside, she found all of her things a mess inside, but intact. Including the boo… the journal. It was a journal.

Cricket fastened it on her back and made for the door to the outside world.

"Wait." Gary stopped her. "We might not be on such great terms, but it's bad outside. Won't you stay until the storm is gone?"

"I can't, my sister is waiting for me at home." Cricket was at the doorway.

"Fine, but at least take this." Gary sent two gnomes to grab something. They came back with a folded black garment. "We use it as a blanket, but I think you could make much better use of it."

Cricket took the garment. "Um, thanks."

"Good luck." He waved. She waved back, and ducked under the arched doorway. The rain pelted her and she gasped at how cold it still was. She hurriedly unfolded the garment and gazed in awe. It was a tall black trench coat- looking jacket with a flared collar, flapping in the wind. She stuffed her arms through the sleeves and felt relief. It was sooo warm. The position of what little light could penetrate the thick blanket of storm clouds indicated that it was nearly 6 o'clock. _Now to get home._

 _..._

"I'll beat you into the ground!" Bea yelled, stare glued to the television screen.

"Oh no way, I've played this game ever since I could hold a control in my hands! You're goin' _down._ " Connor retorted. "Hey," He said, breaking the back and forth banter. "So you really sure your uncle is okay with you taking the TV from the downstairs lobby and plugging it in here?" He twisted his shoulders, emulating the block his character in the game preformed.

"Of course!" Bea waved her hand up and down, brushing him off. "As long as we take it back afterwards, he won't even notice." Her voice strained as she focused more and more on the fighting sequence she was conducting. "Anyways…" She paused between each prominent move, each word getting louder as she neared victory. "He's not even… in the lobby… he's playing cards… with… that one weird guy he… works… with… yes!" She thrusted a fist into the air as her character threw the last 'mega punch' at Connor's character and he toppled over. "First win!"

Connor relaxed and readjusted himself on the couch after the long and arduous game. "Yeah, out of eight."

"Hey, I'm getting better!" Bea grinned. She took another handful of chips from the bag carelessly propped up between them. Crumbs littered the floor.

"That you are, my young apprentice."

Bea cackled. Just then, thunder sent a loud and terrifying applause. Connor jumped, which made the bag of chips fall over. Bea finally took notice of the bellowing storm and its sheer size. She set the control down and moved the shutters to get a better view. She frowned.

"What's wrong?" Connor inquired while picking up the loose chips and tossing them back in the bag.

"… My sister should've been home by now. It's half passed six." She paused. "I'll call her."

She paced around the room but there was no answer. "Huh."

"I'm sure she's alright, Bea." Connor offered her the bag and she took another hungry mouthful, chewing loudly.

"I hope so."

"If you want, I'll stay until she gets here."

Bea took the offer by surprise. "Really? Well… that would be great. Thanks, dude."

"Hey no problem. I mean it's not like I can really leave anyways. It'd be lunacy to travel out there at this time-"

Bea slumped her shoulders and Connor tried to put a band aid on the sentence. "-at night, in a car."

The two stayed there for a moment, contemplating the streaks of rain that traced lines on the window. "You mind if I call my mom? I've gotta tell her I'll be here for a while." Connor pointed to her phone.

"Huh? Oh, yeah sure." Bea gave him the phone and focused back on the glass. The lights went out, and the glorious theme of their video game was cut off with it.

Her uncle's apartment complex was right at the edge of the town, and her apartment was on the far side of the building, which meant that she had a clear view of the woods. A thin and tall figure stepped out of the tree line. It had a hump on its back, and looked as menacing as anything. It was making its way to the apartments.

"Alright, thanks mom. Goodbye." Connor had just finished his phone call when Bea screamed.

"Monster!" She stuck a finger to the glass.

...

It was so cold. But the apartments were in sight. Only a few more yards and she'd officially be out of the woods.

Two people ran from the back door wielding blunt objects. They were yelling out some strange battlecry. Cricket stopped dead in her tracks. The nearest one swung out and she lost her balance, narrowly avoiding the blow. Her collar fell away from her face. The figure got ready to swing again but paused.

"Crick?" Her sister said in disbelief.

"Bea, what are you doing?" She got back on her hands and knees and her sister reached a hand out for her to take. Heaving her up, the redhead answered.

"We thought you were some monster. But I think it was just hype from the game we were just playing. I'll show you inside. C'mon."

Connor opened the door for the two girls to walk inside. Their shoes quacked like soggy ducks on the cool tiles. They arrived at a staircase.

Now back inside the warm and dry apartment, Cricket took stock of everything. Sealed boxes still stacked in the corner, taking up about half of the entire place. Four multi-colored suitcases that she guessed were Bea's. One couch…. And a TV?

"Where'd… I'm not even going to ask." She was too tired. Bea helped her with her coat and hung it on the bathroom door. She took note of how the coat made the backpack look like the hump she saw.

Cricket half sat half fell onto the couch. She took her back pack in her hands and slipped the journal out.

"What's that?" Asked Connor, sitting on one of the couch's arms.

"It's a long story." Cricket opened it back up to page one. The three marveled at the relic.

 **Hi! It's me again! Sorry, but since this is my first shot at an extended fiction, could you please take a moment to give it a review? The feedback would really help improve my writing and give a bit of a confidence boost, and it would help me know if you like them so I should continue to publish these. Thanks so much! (Also I realized there was no clear indication of changing perspectives! There _was_ , there were multiple MULTIPLE spaces between switching perspectives, but the Fanfic format erased all of that, so I have found a new way to switch, sorry about that 3)**


	2. Chapter 2

**So actually I think I'll post episode 2 today also and then post episode three tomorrow. I still need to tweak it a bit, but hope you like episode 2!**

 **Episode 2: WE WANT YOU**

"Crick! Wake up!" Bea shook her sister roughly.

Cricket sat straight up in her mess of a bed, flinging a sock across the room with her. "Huh?! What?!" Her head spun in circles, taking in the sight of her dirty room. It had been close to a week since she'd moved in but she still had not gotten used to her surroundings. She locked eyes with her sister, who was dressed in blue pajamas, strands of red hair sticking out in every conceivable direction, and grinning like an idiot. "What's going on? Earthquake? Break- in?" She stopped short and took on a serious tone. "Am I _late for class?_ " It was clear that _that_ was the worst of the three.

"No, silly, I just wanted you to get up." Bea shrugged and giggled.

"Oh, yeah." Cricket fell back onto her bed. "It's been a little while since we've lived together that I forgot you do that." She craned her neck to see what time it read on her alarm clock- 7:03. _No more need for an alarm I think._ "Race you to the bathroom." Cricket sprung out of bed. For the first time since leaving for college, everything was once again in sync. Bea strode out of the room, swinging on the door frame as she exited.

She and her sister both got dressed and did their hair, making sure to check with each other that it looked alright. As always, Bea went for the more flamboyant style, making her hair swoop to one side without having a part. And Cricket expertly made a side part and carefully combed it back, away from her eyes. She rinsed out her glasses and straightened them on her face. She stuck her index to the middle of the glasses and scooted them in closer. "Perfect."

They prepared their backpacks and Bea went to turn on the morning news that they always watched. But she stopped herself.

"Ooh. I forgot to put the front lobby TV back." Bea said, awkwardly rubbing her head. "What do we do? Connor helped me carry it in and plug it to the wall, but I don't know how all that wire stuff works."

"Hmm. Uh, leave it for now and we'll reinstall it later tonight." Then Cricket thought it over a moment longer and gave a less boring response that she knew Bea loved. "Or, if he doesn't notice we could just keep it."

Her sister cracked up. There was something else that Crick wanted to ask, something that they hadn't done since she'd started college. "Oh, and I wanted to ask you something. Do you think, if you're not too busy, that you could go exploring the woods with me? I have some new samples I want to collect." Cricket wanted to get started on her research of the strange town immediately. She couldn't _believe_ how long she'd been there and had lived her life so ignorant of the law- defying world underneath the pines. And so far she hadn't had much luck in the way of making friends, and having Bea around again was a great comfort.

Bea dropped the remote on the couch. "Like we did before?" She sounded hopeful.

"Like before." Cricket affirmed.

Bea squealed with delight. "I'll unpack my guitar!"

...

The two were about to leave the apartment to go downstairs and have breakfast with their uncle when Cricket realized her black jacket was still hanging on the bathroom wall. Pensive, she considered taking it to her class. But with one final glance, she closed the door behind her.

The four of them sat in the employee's lounge in complete and utter silence. The girls thought it'd be just the three of them. As in, Bea, Crick, and their Uncle Cisco. But there was a fourth member of the club that scared them half to death. He was very tall, broad shoulders, and had a grey beard. He wore a long camo green jacket and a grey snow cap. And he didn't talk at all. _This_ was the guy that their uncle played cards with from time to time. His name according to Uncle Cisco was Joel. And he wasn't really _sitting_ so much as standing in the corner eating a bowl of cold cereal.

The room they sat in was icy. The walls were unpainted, just a dull white. The table was rickety, and it squeaked at the slightest touch. And the tiles were just as boring as the walls. It was furnished with an egg shell colored refrigerator, a washer and a dryer, a sink, and a microwave.

Bea was visibly struggling to control the urge to grab a pail of paint and just empty it on the walls. She couldn't leave a room as unappealing as this alone. She never could with the tree fort they once built together as kids.

It may have been awkward for Bea, but Cricket was fully immersed in the journal. She flipped a page, and the drawing confused her. It was a werewolf- type monster. But it also had a black cape around it. And long sharp fangs. _A hybrid of some sort. God, I hope these aren't real._

"So," Began Uncle Cisco. "What are you girls planning to do today?" He sipped at his coffee. Cisco was the same height as Cricket, about 5'10. He had dark skin, hair, and eyes, and had a goatee. His eyes had dark lines under them, a sign that he didn't sleep well.

Bea jumped at the opportunity to answer a question, especially one about her day. "Weeellll, I was going to start the day off at the art room, oh its sooo pretty. Those art students really know how to bring the room together. After that I was gonna-" she kept going, but the tired look from Cisco gave the clear impression that he regretted asking.

Neither Bea nor she had ever remembered seeing him growing up. Their mom had told them about how he'd tried to make it as an actor, but that it had failed miserably. He was in his mid-thirties now.

"- And then Crick and I are gonna go exploring the woods later. I'm bringing my guitar." Bea beamed at him, and Cricket had to admire her excitement. "What are you doing today Uncle Cisco?"

"Me?" He snorted. "I'm gonna do what I always do. Sit at _that_ front desk, finish the daily crossword puzzle on this newspaper, and then slowly and inevitably wither away."

"And what's your job?"

Cisco was caught by surprise. She'd blown right over his depressing comment. "I collect rent and make sure this place doesn't fall apart."

Bea almost choked on a bite of her cereal. "Would it do that?"

"Without me runnin' it, probably. At least, more than it's deteriorated already." He said, defeated.

Bea swallowed another bite. "Cool."

"Cool? You're easily impressed." Cisco took another gulp of his coffee.

"It's a talent." Bea shrugged with a carefree expression. Cisco rolled his eyes.

...

Using up her lunch time to do research would've been the worst idea to most, but Cricket was right at home as she sat in the old dusty library. Nothing quite like the smell of aging books in a stuffy room. Everything else around her was silent except for the clacking of old keys on the computer.

She hit _Enter_ and the computer screen showed her a list of search options.

 _Gravity Falls not what it Seems_

 _Gravity Falls Supernatural Beings?_

 _A monster ate my car. What do? Gravity Falls resid…._

Cricket clicked the second one, as it most closely pertained to her situation. And for a few seconds, a website popped up with paragraph upon paragraph of information. Her fingers tingled with anticipation. But before she could read anything, the website closed, replaced by a screen stating:

 _Never Mind All That!_

Next to the words in comic sans font was a smiley face: J

Cricket's hands froze and she brought them up. She stole a glance at the Journal. Still there. Still riddled with mysteries. Making sure nothing else was going to pop up, she reentered the information and came up with new search options:

 _Gravity Falls Gobblewonker_

 _The Oddities of Gravity Falls, Oregon_

 _Tourism in Gravity Falls, Oregon_

 _Ghost Harassers come to Gravity Falls, Oregon_

Her heart rate quickened. Other people actually knew what was going on! She clicked the second entry, but the exact same thing happened.

 _NEVER MIND ALL THAT….. ;)_

Cricket made a sour face at the winky face. "It's mocking me. What a time to be alive when computers themselves can mock you, right? Okay." She leaned over to get at the computer next to her, at typed in the same thing.

 _Never Mind All That!_ _J_

Next computer.

 _Never Mind All That!_ _J_

Next computer.

 _Never Mind All That!_ _J_

Cricket stepped back. Every single computer blanked and then showed the tacky multi-colored screen that said the same thing in comic sans. Fear lingered in her mind. Something was way wrong.

Cricket got up and checked with the librarian.

"Excuse me?" She got the scowerly old lady to look at her.

"What is it this time?" She put her hands on her hips. "You gonna ask me what my favorite color is or somethin'?"

She remembered the awkward encounter from last time. "N-no, I just… I think the computers are bugged up. Do you have a history with hackers who prank? You might need a specialist to take a look at them."

The librarian's eyebrow went up and she leaned over the counter to get a better look at the computers in question. Her expression went from irritation to surprise. She slowly leaned back in the chair. "Get out." She ordered flatly.

"But what about-" Crick pointed to the buggy computers once more.

"Look, I don't deal with this technology stuff anyways, find a technician." She waved her off without meeting her stupefied stare. Cricket stayed a moment longer, not sure if she should stand her ground or leave. The librarian buried her face in a magazine that read _Silence Monthly_ with a picture that looked like an old up-tight librarian telling a couple of kids to be quiet. With that, Cricket decided to be on her way. Behind her, the librarian picked up a phone, eyeing the student with a suspicious glare as she trekked off.

Now hurrying through the suddenly empty halls, Cricket went in search of a technician.

She observed one leaving a room, and she signaled him by waving. "Hello? I'm sorry, but there's something wrong, I think, with the computers."

The young man took one look at her and speedily marched right back into the room, closing the door and locking it behind him. A teacher walked down the hall, spotted Cricket, and did a 180, bolting in the other direction. Crick raised her hand to her. "Professor?" The teacher stopped.

"Could you please tell me what's going on? Everyone's avoiding me."

The teacher turned back around and said with a warm smile, "Who's avoiding you?"

"Everyone. These halls were full a minute ago, and now they're empty."

The prof's smile stayed plastered on her face. "Oh, never mind all that."

And Cricket was taken aback. _Never mind all that._

"You too. You're avoiding my questions like you're all hiding something. Why?"

"What, what questions?" _This woman was crazy!_

"…Never mind. I have to go." Cricket sped off in the direction of the cafeteria.

On the way, she passed a janitor mopping the floors. He was a big guy maybe in his early thirties. This made her pause. Was it possible that _this_ man could reveal anything that made sense? She tried her luck.

"Hello? Sir?"

"Yes?" He answered in a gruff tone.

She wasn't sure how to start. "Ahh… so, the computers are doing something way weird. I tried searching up strange events in Gravity Falls, and all I get is a pop up screen."

"Well that's because of the law." He said matter- of- factly.

"The law? What law?" Finally, a breakthrough!

"The stupid law that says we can't talk about the strange stuff that happened here. But lemme tell ya, 'no one knows what happened and no one wants to' my behind." He shook his head and kept mopping.

"So I assume you've lived here a long time." It was almost as if she was interviewing him.

"Yeah, I used to be the handyman for the Tent of Telepathy about a decade ago. Now I work here."

Cricket wanted to ask the big question. "So do you think you could answer my questions?"

"Shouldn't. Law says so. If you want to know about this place, sorry to say, but you'll have to do your own digging. Law says you shouldn't _tell_ outsiders, but not that you can't do your own research. Do with that information what you will."

Her shoulders drooped, but a flood of new ideas entered her brain. She nodded and went off to get herself some lunch.

...

Bea was right in the middle of a drawing contest. Or at least, it _felt_ like a drawing contest. In reality, she was right in the middle of Chemistry, not listening to a single word the teacher was saying. Too immersed in the lines she was effortlessly connecting to make a beautiful work of art. Five seats in front of her was her new friend, Connor. He was furiously scribbling in his notebook too, fully engaged in this contest. The prompt they'd made up was to draw the most ridiculous scenario. Whoever won had to buy the other a candy bar at the snack machine, and it said so right on the contract they themselves had written out and signed. Bea grinned. Her "Break Dancing Chicken President in space proclaiming the new currency to be cauliflower while riding a one-legged Rhinoceros that was shooting human elbows out of its elbow" drawing was sure to win. Stealing a quick looksee at her adversary's sketch, she took note that the competition was stiff. He was drawing a man made out of tinier men wearing a trench coat and aviator sunglasses trying to buy a movie ticket from another guy who suspiciously resembled a dingo with shark limbs to watch "The Little Engine that Had a Moderate Chance, Maybe".

"That's good." She whispered. Connor looked like a maniac while drawing out the dingo with shark limbs. "But not good enough to beat the Lord of Lead."

"Excuse me, Mrs. Atwood? What's not good enough?" The teacher's abrupt words cut into Bea's train of thought like a knife.

"Uh, What? Oh, it's, we were- Mrs. Styvers-"

" _We?_ " Scanning the classroom, Mrs. Styvers noticed Connor trying to seclude his drawing under his notebook and flipping back to the page of notes. She swiftly swiped Bea's sketchbook and Connor's notebook from their desks.

"Hey," Connor called after her, "My notes are also in that notebook." He trailed off, having failed miserably to have some good come of the situation. Mrs. Styvers flipped through his book to his supposed 'page of notes'. It read thus:

 _Notes for Chemestry_

 _Uuhhh…_

 _The molecular bond happens when oh she moved the slide too fast_

 _Absolute Zero: It is most definitely zero and not any other number. It is sure about its identity. Confidence is key_

 _Kelvin: He was really mean to me in 3_ _rd_ _grade_

 _Crystal: Pertaining to my uncle's jail sentence_

 _Okay here we go: Compound: When two or more substances are chemically bonded oh she changed the thing again_

 _[Picture of a lion with paint brushes for a mane]_

 _[Picture of a lion shredding on the guitar with face paint like Kiss]_

The teacher frowned and Connor laughed nervously.

Now having continued with the lesson, Bea's fingers itched. They were to pick their things up at the end of the day. She felt bad. She knew she shouldn't have been drawing during class.

When the bell rang, Bea packed up her things and headed for the hallway to her last class, but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. She started, as the hand felt less like a hand and more like a… _hairy paw._ She spun around, but it was only another student. Scraggly brown hair partly shrouded bright eyes.

"Aren't you going to take your belongings back?" She sounded expectant.

"My stuff? No, I have to wait until the end of the day. Might not even take it back, it was wrong in the first place-" without a pause she changed tones, "wait, why do you care?"

The girl laughed. "Call it what you want, but I know an injustice when I see one." They both turned to look at the teacher's desk. "You two worked hard on those drawings. Only fair you should get them returned to you, don't you think?"

"Well… maybe." A short moment of thought. "We _did_ work really hard on them." Be started toward the desk. She knelt down to get at the drawers underneath. Grasping the handle of one, she found that it was locked.

Then her blood turned to ice. "Mrs. Atwood, what on earth are you doing?" Bea wanted to shrink. She'd been caught. _Again._

"But I _can't_ get detention today, I have something to do. I could go any other day!" She pleaded with Mrs. Styvers, but the teacher closed the door on her face. Bea grumbled and remembered the other kid with the scraggly hair. She was nowhere to be seen.

...

Noisy eighties music filled the bustling café. Cricket chewed on a pencil and waited for her order of fries to arrive at her table. The journal was splayed out in front of her, opened to the page on the hybrid creature. Reading up on it, she learned that, like a werewolf, it only turned on the full moon. But like a vampire, it couldn't be in direct sunlight and it also drank blood. It didn't have a name.

The bell that indicated that an order was ready stole Cricket's attention. She directed it back to the journal, but then looked back up, in a table a few seats to her right. Sitting there was the most impossibly beautiful man she'd ever laid eyes on. Chocolate brown hair tied back in a bun, short strands framing his smooth yet strong tan face. A hint of facial hair at his chin, warm hazel eyes that melted Cricket's insides. Broad shoulders that implied lean muscle underneath. He had on a very dark brown leather jacket, with two interjecting and jagged tears on the chest, indicating ware. All of that was shattered as soon as he locked eyes with her.

Cricket suddenly became aware of the way she was sitting: Droopy shoulders, head resting comfortably on the palm of her hand, a faint smile at her lips. Scrambling, occluding her face with her hands, she wished for the cold, welcome release of death. What was she _doing?_ Trying to forget the entire event, Cricket went back to studying the Journal.

 _I estimate their fangs to be around five inches long when fully grown. They continue to grow throughout their lifetimes-_ a small movement beyond her house made out of awkwardness and arms made her flinch. Her arms dropped to rest on top of the journal. Anyone who discovered what she was looking at would think she was insane.

She considered calling Death up to pick her up herself when she saw that the God with the leather jacket was standing not twelve inches away from her. But she didn't dare look at him directly.

"Hi." He spoke, his voice like melted caramel. Cricket's eyes remained fixed on a distant corner of the establishment, as wide as dinner plates. "Is this seat taken?"

Cricket had rarely ever had a moment where her inner monologue took over.

 _Is this seat_ what? _Is it taken? Is it? I don't know, my vision is failing. Well what do I do? I have to give him an answer, I can't tell him I can't see. Okay, okay, keep yourself composed Crick, you're better than this. Breathe in, breathe out, ten and two- wait that's for driving. It's just a person. Answer him in three… two…_

"Five- I mean no? No, it's not." Cricket gestured to the seat opposite her. Actually, that's what she thought she was pointing at, she was actually pointing in a vague direction nowhere near the other seat.

"Cool. Sorry, I'm not a weirdo. I don't usually do this, it's just that my friends couldn't make it and I was going to have to spend lunch by myself-" He sat down, but saw her opened Journal clumsily hidden under her arms. "I'm sorry, are you studying? I didn't see the text book, I'll go, I didn't mean to intrude." He started back up from the seat.

"No! I- I wasn't studying, I was bored too!" She stated a little too loudly. She closed the book and slammed it on the floor on accident.

"Oh? That's a relief." He sat back down. "Do you like coming here?"

 _Small talk, you can do this._ "I like their fries." She smiled shyly.

"Really? So do I. Best fries in town. Y'know, they've got a secret menu where you can order curly fries." He made a twirl motion with his finger.

"That's cool." Cricket relaxed a little.

"I know a guy that works here that can fry them in the shape of your face, no extra charge."

"I wish I knew about that before I ordered my fries." Cricket brushed some hair neatly behind her ear.

"Oh, bummer. There's always next time, right?"

 _Next time?_ "Next time, then."

"Yeah. And my friend once ordered a burger with 9 patties and 16 buns!" He stretched his arms out wide. "She was crazy."

"Must've cost a fortune!" She laughed.

"22 dollars." He nodded. "But it was worth it."

His phone buzzed, and he unlocked the screen. "Oh, I gotta go. My friends are picking me up, we have a study session planned."

"You're a student?" Cricket asked hopefully.

"Yeah, college, second year." He fixed his jacket. "I'm Silas."

"Cricket. First year."

He shot her an interested smile. "Nice to meet you, Cricket." A car horn honked outside, and he jogged out of the diner. Cricket's legs felt weak, and she collapsed back onto the chair. He ran back in. "I forgot to ask, do you want to come? Study?"

"Huh? Oh, I can't, I have plans with my sister today." Crick was stuffing the journal back into her back pack, already ruing her decision to go out to the woods on this of all days.

"That's cool. See you later then." He waved and then disappeared as quickly as he had appeared.

As if on cue, a slow dance eighties ballad replaced the upbeat tune.

...

Bea unenthusiastically plopped her things down next to the desk. After school, and she was _here_ , still. Probably the only exciting thing was that the classroom she was to spend detention in was in the domed building, and she'd never been in there before. But the room was just as insufferable due to her sentence. Connor wished the best of luck before he went home. And there was no calling Cricket to tell her she wouldn't make it home until later because they'd confiscated her phone right after 6th period.

Just then, five kids noisily spilled into Bea's prison. They all looked familiar, each had either brown or black hair and it was all very unkempt, as was their clothing. The last one to go through the door was the same girl who had convinced her to take her and Connor's drawings out early. Anger stirred inside of her.

She turned away in her desk and crossed her arms as the girl took her seat right next to her.

"How's it goin'?" She asked with a steely grin. Almost as if she knew Bea would be here.

"I'm not talking to you." Bea said curtly, closing her eyes.

Another one of the kids interjected. "But you just did." He sounded slow.

"… I guess I did." She nodded and resumed her stoic stance.

"I know you're mad." The girl twiddled a pencil in her hand. "But I know for a fact you won't be in about five seconds."

"No, I'm going to sit here and stay angry and wait until that clock reads six -" Before Bea could finish, the girl strode to her desk, every drawing in hand. She splayed them all out in front of her, then leaned in.

"Still mad?"

Bea took Connor's tiny man- shark dingo drawing in her hand. She stole them back. According to the teacher, Bea was never supposed to get them back after her stunt. "I don't know." She was genuinely torn, and studied the drawing in deep concentration.

The girl reached into her back pocket and pulled out Bea's lucky pencil.

Bea took it in her hands, marveling over her mechanical drawing pencil of over seven years. "…Let's say I'm not angry anymore." She took an exaggerated analytical stance. "What now? What do you want?"

"It's like I said," She shrugged, "I see a wrong, I right it. Plus, you seem like the kind of kid who knows what she's doing. We like you." She gestured to the other four. Then she put a wide hand to her chest. "I'm Lupita."

"Bea."

"Alright, Bea. Next order of business: We're going to find your phone."

...

"She's supposed to get here any minute." Crick explained to Joel while munching on a fry. He towered over her. A large floor to ceiling window covered the area on either side of the main entrance to the lobby. Cricket swung her legs to and fro on one of the tables while staring outside. She was fully dressed to go adventuring, black jacket, gloves, the Journal. And Joel stood ever- silent next to her. Without moving his head, his eyes wandered to Cricket's swinging legs. Picking up one of his legs, he statically swung it back and forth, mirroring Cricket's movements.

"What's taking her so long? I'll call her." While Cricket's phone rang, Uncle Cisco called for Joel.

"Joel! I need your help with something, quit socializing on the shift, I don't pay you to be a blabbermouth!" He put his leg down and he set his eyes behind him where Cisco was. Face never showing any hint of an emotion, he marched off backwards.

Cricket drew the phone away from her ear, having not gotten a response. It was getting late. Where was Bea?

...

The six students tip toed through the main hall of the school. Most of the lights were off as most of the staff was gone as well.

[Montage]

One lone student hid behind a curtain. Another two inside a closet in one of the classrooms. Bea was hunched over under a desk, and a fifth roamed the halls in search of the others. Bea snickered. They'd never find her here.

Twenty minutes later the five of them were calling out to the sixth, who refused to come out of hiding. They walked right under him, and it is revealed he was the smallest of them and was hidden in an air duct.

Bea sized up the slow one's face and did a quick sketch in her sketchbook, then showed him. He excitedly waved it at the others, who were each holding a caricature of themselves drawn in exaggerated anime style and stereotypical anime poses. The first had the kind of armor that wouldn't protect against anything, the second was dramatically ripped, the third was staring longingly out, anatomically impossible eyes covering half his face and a flower in his physic- defying hair, the fourth was dressed in a sailor outfit and long ponytails, and the last wielded a laser-sword twice his height.

"And then _I_ said, 'Toast? I thought you said _ghost!_ " They sat on the bleachers as the sun began to set over the far away mountains. Bea was surrounded by a chorus of laughter, knee- slapping, and applause. The two that were chasing each other around stopped to cackle at her joke, and one of them succeeded in pushing the other off the bleachers while she wasn't paying attention, winning the game of "Push and Plummet". Bea and the others stopped laughing to look on and the winner peered over the side of the stands for a moment. But everyone erupted in laughter once more.

A spark sent electricity charging through the wires and the six students snickered. Bea and Lupita were standing, arms crossed in the school's main hall while the other four knelt down and picked at the wires behind a panel connecting the intercom to the school's speakers. Another jolt of electricity shot sparks in the air, erupting from the two exposed wires and one of the kids held a thumbs up and gave Lupita a microphone with a chord extending into the wall. Lupita presented it to Bea, who carefully took it in her hands like it was a priceless ancient artifact. Giddy with anticipation, she spoke a few words into the microphone: "Butt…" The sound echoed around the entire school.

Now, one of the other kids held the microphone and was beatboxing while another held their mp3 player that played an upbeat pop song, and it was amplified to every corner of the building. Lupita, Bea, and the last two kids danced up and down the dark percussive halls.

The detention room was noiseless, save the quaint buzzing of an overworked air cooling system. Nothing moved, nothing stirred, and everything was just as the detainees had left it. Connor's drawing swayed in the light breeze that the only open window circulated through.

Not a second later, the door swung open and six rushed and giggling teenagers raced inside. The wind caused by the rapidly opening door swept Connor's drawing off of Bea's temporary detention desk. Bea wrenched herself in her seat as fast as she could. She controlled her breathing and saw that she had a bit of time. Looking down at the drawings, she yelped and crammed all of them in her backpack just as the detention- supervising teacher walked into the room. Every one of them had succeeded in making it to their desks, and some were hiding their heavy breathing. Lupita and Bea gave each other a knowing glance and smiled at the teacher, Lupita brushing Connor's drawing under her grimy book bag with her toes.

...

Cricket paced back and forth, phone in hand. It was too dark to go out now. 7 pm. The full moon was rising tonight.

She tromped over to the front desk where Cisco was organizing pamphlets. He separated the green ones that said that the apartments were voted _Second Least Likely to Have a Possum Infestation_ , and the red ones that simply read _Free Wifi?_ With a smiling person shrugging.

Cisco held a hand up. "Before you ask, no, I don't know what's taking your sister so long. I don't know how kids work, let alone teenagers, and I'm not going to pretend to care about your angsty teen problems." He straightened out the stack of pamphlets with the table.

"But where _is_ she? I don't have her tall friend's number, but I'm betting she had to have gone with him. Only she _wouldn't_ have… right? She usually likes to hang out with me. I'm not that boring to hang out with..." Cricket didn't get an immediate response from her Uncle. "Am I?"

"I don't know what to tell you, she probably found some new friends. Look, I didn't agree to give you girls a free apartment so I could be your pal to talk to about Brad and Angelina, I'm probably the least 'in the loop' person you know. In fact, I'm not entirely sure what 'in the loop' means and I hope to God I'm using the phrase correctly. So… go on and do your thing, leave me to my important work." He shooed her away.

Cricket slumped down on the floor, back propped against the desk. "I could've had a fantastic day with a really cute guy." She muttered, thinking of Silas.

Her phone buzzed and she got a text from Bea.

 _Go outside and I'll explain everything lol_

...

The truck's engine growled and the rickety carburetor popped, and it was a miracle the thing was still functional. Lupita drove with Bea in the passenger seat and her four new friends squished together in the back. They rolled into the apartment complex's plaza.

"And you're absolutely _sure_ you don't want to come?" Lupita asked, making the truck screech to a halt, frustration dripping from her tongue.

"Yeah. You guys are great, but I'm pooped. And starved. Spooved. Maybe tomorrow though." Bea hopped out of the rumbling vehicle to find Cricket coming out to greet her.

"Hey!" Bea called. But her sister didn't look at all happy to see her. Her hands were curled into fists and her feet stomped on the hard brick floor. "So, here's what happened. I got detention, but these really cool people had detention _too,_ so they got my things from Mrs. Styvers' desk… your face is all red and junk, are you okay?"

Crick was fuming. "… No. I'm not okay, why didn't you answer your phone? I called it a thousand times."

"Because some mean old teacher took it for detention… for like half an hour before I got it back with my new friends." Bea came to the realization that she had forgotten entirely to call and cancel the hang out.

"Bea, I had to turn down a guy to do a study session so I could go sample- collecting with you!" A tinge of sadness came with the next sentence. "Like we used to do."

Bea paused, feeling guilt. "How hot was he?"

"Immeasurably." Cricket answered flatly.

"…Well… it wasn't all my fault, Lupita made me get detention and we ended up having a really good time-"

"So you forgot about me?" Hurt clutched Cricket's chest.

"I didn't forget-"

The two erupted in argument. The sound of Uncle Cisco's far off and glass-half-empty tone and him swinging open the lobby doors relieved some of the tension. "No arguing in front of my lobby! This place is already run down and unpleasant enough without you two at each other's throats. Go somewhere else!" He barked off frame.

Back in the truck, Lupita saw the entire thing unfold.

"What's their problem?" The smallest of the kids asked from the back seat.

"Hold on a sec, I'm going to resolve this _whole_ matter." She honked the horn, getting Bea's attention. She couldn't hear what she said to her sister, but Bea turned back and headed to the truck.

"You need to get _off_ my case, Crick. I was having fun until you ruined it. Adults really do ruin everything." And to Cricket's alarm, Bea turned her back towards her and walked determined back to the metal death trap.

"Bea wait-" Crick called to her. "You can't-"

"I'll be home in a few hours. Cisco's right, unpleasant is this place's middle name." Bea added in a low tone. One of Lupita's crew had taken the front seat, so Bea opened the side door and jammed herself in with agonizing slowness.

"Let's go." Bea's words were muffled from the glass that was pressed up against her face, killing the intense mood in one fell swoop, but her voice was serious. Nonetheless, Cricket watched as her sister and more often than not, only friend, drove away. But time slowed down when the last rays of sunshine glinted off of the driver's eyes. Under the scruffy bedhead were a pair of yellow eyes. Her sneer showed off a pair of small fangs growing in where her canines should be. And Cricket went stiff with surprise. _Was that…? No, it couldn't be. Is it?_

Cricket dashed through the lobby, making for the stairs to their third floor apartment.

Cisco was reading a newspaper. "Where's the other one?" He was referring to her sister.

"Can't talk gotta go." Cricket said, quick and to the point, not breaking her sprint.

"Yeah, fine." He gave the mechanical response because he was plain not listening. "Just be back before midnight, or whatever." Cricket was already half way up the stairs, and Cisco was alone. "Your mother would _kill_ me if something happened to either of you twerps." He joked to himself. He turned the page of the paper and Joel came to stand next to him. He eyed Cisco, then the staircase.

Cricket unlocked their apartment door and hastily picked up the Journal she'd placed on her nightstand for safe keeping. She leafed through it until she found the page on the vampire-werewolf-hybrids. They had the same glinting eyes, the same fangs.

She dawned the black jacket, gloves, and pocketed the Journal in an inner pouch in the garment.

Flying back down the stairs she nearly careened into the towering figure of Joel. He was blocking her path. She didn't dare say a word, she had no idea what he was doing. He reached behind him and took out a long and jagged machete. Then he grabbed Cricket's hand and put the leather hilt of the weapon in her grasp.

"Umm…" She didn't know what to say, and Joel brought up his finger to his lips, indicating for her not to say anything. He just nodded. And, still not understanding the full situation, Crick unsuredly returned the gesture.

Bones rattling from the adrenaline, Cricket bolted through the town. The Journal gave a more or less accurate hot spot for the were-vamps to be during a full moon. It was a mile or so into the East woods, at the crest of a large hill.

On the way, she rounded a corner and crashed into a dense body. Crick hit the cement hard and rubbed her head. The Journal was open on the cracked grey sidewalk.

"Cricket?" Melted caramel. Silas. "You look like you're in a hurry, something wrong?" He held out a warm hand, and she took it. There wasn't any time for idle chit chat.

"I just… I need to go, it's important." Cricket gathered herself, and pecked the red tome off the ground. But Silas had already taken a short peep inside.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" His words stung the warm summer air and lingered in her mind. A fateful decision was about to be made. One that would change everything.

"…Yes. I'll tell you on the way, but we have to be fast." And the two set off. Change was a two way street. It could either be for better, or for worse; and Cricket was going to find out soon enough which of the two the shift evoked.

...

"So, you hang out here a lot?" Bea rested her hands in her jersey's pockets and took in her surroundings. She stepped over decomposing leaves that littered the soft ground underneath. "Yeah, me and… we used to have a place in the woods. It was the coolest."

"You could say we visit this hill about once a month." Lupita called from the front of the pack.

"Once a month? Pshh. We went to that tree fort at _least_ once every day, sometimes all day. One time, it started raining and we stayed the night. Another time a beehive moved in next to us and we had to… manually remove it." Bea shivered and rubbed her arm, implying that that had been the hot spot for bee stings that day.

"You talk about your sister a lot." Lupita growled.

"I do not!" Bea retorted indignantly.

The six arrived at the top of the hill. "Why are we here? Surprise game of volleyball? Ooh I am a _pro_ at volleyball, who picks teams?" Bea rubbed her hands together.

Lupita shared a knowing glance with the others. "We're not here to play volleyball, Bea. We are here… for this."

It became apparent to Bea that Lupita had been concealing one of her arms inside the sleeve of her sweater the entire trek through the East forest. Lupita unfurled her arms and a large sharp- clawed paw was taking up the space where her hand was supposed to be. Bea took a terrified step back.

"'Getting recognized in a high order group such as us is one of the greatest honors a human can hope to achieve'. That's what my grandpa told me once. And, Bea, with your say so, you can be fully integrated into our pack. We want _you._ " Lupita's fangs grew longer.

Bea waved her hands in the air, lost for words. "Wait wait wait. So… you're like… a werewolf?"

"Somewhere along that line, yes." The others agreed with Lupita.

"And… you want me to be a part of this whole…" she made a long gesture to all of them. "Deal?"

"That's what I'm saying plain and simple. It takes grit to stand out from the rest. To be defiant, to get right up in someone's face and tell them to stick it. You're a natural born trouble-maker." Lupita's nose was jutting out from her face more and more, and she was taking on the form of a wolf.

Bea felt the guilt rehashed from her earlier fight with Crick. What had she become? "You think I'm a trouble-maker? I'm not… I _am_. Dang, what _happened_ to me? I'm such a jerk."

"Exactly. You were born to join us." Lupita's tone became full of energy, and raspier. She was growing an inch every minute.

"… I'm sorry. You all seem like nice... wolf people, but..." Bea trailed off. "I'm gonna have to politely decline."

Lupita snarled. "What are you saying?" She took a menacing step forward.

Bea defensively held her hands out. "I'm saying, that I'm not the right person to join you."

Lupita looked confused. And Bea trembled with fear.

...

Cricket had to stop to catch her breath. They were so close to the edge of town. Her throat ached, but she kept giving Silas all of the information she could. "And then I saw the fangs and the yellow eyes." She gasped for air. "I know I might sound crazy, and if you don't ever want to talk to me again, I understand."

Silas took on a very serious expression. He too was breathing hard. "Cricket? Do you know what you're dealing with?"

"Maybe. Do you?" She said, wheezing. "Because you seem to have a great handle on this so far." More to herself she said, "Why are you so darn perfect. Are you even sweating?"

"I have a lot of experience dealing with these creatures. They're called Werevampolfires. Werevamps for short. I have some connections with them, we have a… a history. I need to make a call, hold on." He dialed a number.

"Werevam-whats? Seems kind of a stretch. How in the world did they get a werewolf and a vampire- yuck, never mind. I don't wanna know." Cricket's heart rate slowed down and she could finally breathe without fear that her lungs would explode. Silas ended the call, Cricket having skipped over it with her commentary. He reached into his leather jacket and pulled out a fully loaded crossbow.

"Where were you hiding that? Where does that fit?" She asked, incredulous. There were too many new things going on for her mind to process it all.

"Let's keep going. We're close now." He pointed the crossbow towards the East woods.

...

"C'mon, you don't wanna do this!" Bea backed away from the advancing pack of newly formed werewolves. "Kal, I found you the perfect hiding spot! Sally, you dug your elbow into my stomach the entire ride here, and I felt we made a connection, don't you think?" Bea faced Lupita. "Lups, I drew you a _caricature_. You had stellar _abs._ "

Lupita snarled, now 7 inches taller than Bea, voice warped by the transformation. "That heinous drawing made me self- conscious about my body!"

"Well how was I supposed to know you had body image issues?!" Bea retorted angrily. She glanced at a rock on the ground. She readied her arms, and then dashed behind her, grasping the rock firmly in her fist and flinging it to the nearest of the wolves. It hit him right in the eye and he howled in pain. This broke the deadly stare with Lupita and Bea, and she made a run for it.

More than anything, Bea tumbled down the hill. She broke through the tree line, sprinting at full speed. _What the heck?! Werewolves? Does Crick know?_

A branch slapped her face. "Ow!" She covered her nose with her hand and squeezed one of her eyes shut. A howl pierced the night air, followed by four others. In truth, Bea had no idea if she was going in the right direction or not, but she did her best to identify landmarks.

...

Cricket heard the unmistakable chorus of Werevamps off in the distance. Silas jumped down from the pine tree he'd scaled. "Don't worry, my plan will work. They're this way." He pointed north.

...

They were gaining on her. Their paws trampled the shrubs behind them, and the noise of panting and claws scraping bark sparked panic inside of Bea. Her breath rapid and shallow, her whole body aching. In an attempt to lose them, and while mouthing the word _nope_ repeatedly, Bea wriggled out of her green jersey and launched it to the side to throw them off her scent. Then, with all of her remaining force, she drew her arm around the trunk of a tree and changed direction on a dime. Only, she was startled to find herself colliding with another person. They smacked the ground with a loud thud, and whatever remaining breath was still in her lungs was practically sucker punched out of her.

 _Brown hair, black jacket, Cricket!_

"Crick! It's you!" Bea gave her a big hug on the ground.

"Bea, you're suffocating me." Cricket's face turned red, and Bea let go.

"I'm sorry, I forgot how much of a wimpy stick you were." Bea wrapped her arms around her sister, lifted her up, and dusted her off. Crick did have a tall slender frame compared to her sister. Silas's eyes were glued in the direction Bea had come from. His eyes narrowed, and the grip on his crossbow tightened. Two hulking figures barreled out from the curtain of trees, and Silas quickly side- stepped to avoid their claws. Three more of the creatures followed and surrounded the girls.

Bea punched her fists together, flexing the muscle in her arms. "You wanna go? Let's go, I'll take all of you on!" She yelled, not being able to take all of them on. Cricket was behind her, one hand opening the jacket and the other on the jagged machete Joel had given her. She didn't want to have to use it, but a cold dread washed over her as she imagined stabbing through the abdomen of the nearest Werevamp. Silas hung back, watching the woods.

"Silas? You're the expert, what now?!" Cricket called out to him.

"Wait for it!" He shouted back, putting his crossbow away.

Cricket stared into the maw of one of the snarling beasts.

"Crick you were right! All that stuff I said it was just stress from today, I didn't mean any of it. I'm sorry for not calling you, and I'm not just saying that because I'm about to be chewed to shreds by a horde of hairy monsters." Bea swung a fist out at one of the Werevamps that got too close.

"It's okay! Actually, because of you I got to hang out with the guy I told you about!" She assured her sister. They were back to back, but they exchanged words as if it was a casual conversation.

"Really? 'Mr. Immeasurably'? Where is he?" Bea didn't have time to be pleasantly surprised because two massive figures roared just behind one of the hairy beasts, and they cowered away from the girls.

Silas went to stand next to the towering yellow-eyed monsters and crossed his arms.

The larger of the two Werevampolfires growled with terrifying ferocity. He stood on his hind legs and took on a humanoid stance. "Lupa. Come over here and explain yourself this second." Lupita's ears flattened against her furry head and the others followed suit.

"You… called their parents on them?" Cricket asked Silas, machete slack at her side, as he came to stand next to the girls and watched the parents scold their children.

"So _that's_ their relationship. I couldn't tell if they were siblings or just that one group of friends that always all look alike, and the longer I waited the more I thought it was too awkward to ask. I know you know what I'm talking about." Bea put her hands on her hips, satisfied with her conclusion.

Silas dusted his jacket off. "I told you, I have connections. We go way back. They used to give me trouble, but we have a pact these days that prohibits them from hurting people." He smiled a job-well-done-smile, and Cricket found herself staring at him. Looking back at Bea, she was embarrassed to see her sister giving her a very big grin and eyeing her and then Silas. She raised her eyebrows.

Crick gave her a playful shove. "Shut up." She said, hiding red cheeks and a smile and looking away.

Bea was snickering. "I didn't say anything ya doof." She wrapped her arms tightly around her sister. "Thanks for comin' for me." Cricket rested her arm on Bea's shoulder.

The full moon illuminated the woods, almost as bright as the sun.

...

It was almost ten o'clock when they came home. Cricket sported a swollen eye and a bruise on her shoulder from the ungraceful impact with Bea, who had scratches up and down her arms from wayward tree branches and a scrape running from the bridge of her nose to her ear. Silas went with the Werevamps to see to it that they got somewhere safe until day.

The lobby was dark, save for a lamp at the front desk. Joel had been waiting at the front door for them, and he held it open for them. Cricket gave him back his machete. Uncle Cisco was counting the money from the register. His eyes didn't leave the green stacks of bills. "Hey, so tomorrow you girls are working from three to seven, remember, the apartment isn't _totally_ free-" The girls walked right by him. "Woah, what happened to you Debby- Downers?" He laughed and Cricket turned around, showing her swollen eye. His voice lost all playfulness and sarcasm. "You okay?"

"Got turned around in the woods." Cricket said tiredly.

"We're good, Uncle C. Really tired though." Bea gave him a winning smile through her exhausted face and revealed her cuts, leaf-covered jersey in hand. They waited for his response, but they didn't expect what came next.

He waved a thumb behind him. "I've got a first aid kit under the counter, why don't you come with me to the lounge and we'll clean you two up."

"Mmm, so now you care?" Cricket started for the lounge.

"Hey don't push it, twerp. Now come on."

They didn't protest, feeling too tired to make it up the staircase anyways. Joel followed them in, taking one last look out of the back door into the woods. He blinked once, and then closed the lounge door behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay so after this one, it'll take maybe a week or so to get the next one out, so keep an eye out for it. But in the meantime here's episode three, hope you enjoy!**

 **Episode 3: Ghost Harassers: Booker's Lodge**

Saturday afternoon. Cricket strode into the Dusk to Dawn corner store, walking on tired and sore feet. For a second she thought that she would stand out in the small store, hair a windblown and ratty mess, face red from the whipping wind, jet black long coat draped around her shoulders but not through her arms. But if she was being honest, the people who frequented corner stores were weird enough already and she was no different than them.

She plopped two Pitt 20 oz sodas, two large bags of chips, one sour cream and onion and one chili lemon, and a pack of redvines on the checkout counter. She unfolded the twenty dollar bill and handed it to the cashier.

Holding a paper bag hanging from her elbow and pocketing the change, Cricket exited the store and happily walked down the sidewalk back to their apartment, a skip in her step. Today had been a very successful day. She and her sister had been on their third excursion through the woods. Cricket had collected 58 samples including insect wings, grasshoppers, ants, a number of other insects, and dirt and plant samples. They'd just gotten home and Cricket had gone out to get some snacks before she examined the samples.

She walked past a store window. Inside were mannequins in inhuman positions as usual wearing the latest fall look. Even though it wasn't her style, she admired the pretty clothes. The next store was a pawn shop. In contrast to the clothes store, it was older and less colorful. But she saw that people were still inside, either looking to buy something or sell something. An orange flyer with a ghost on it was taped to the outside of the door. The end was cut into strips with phone numbers on each strip. Cricket stopped to examine the paper.

 _Ghost Harassers pay to stay a FULL night in a haunted house!_

 _20 contestants_

 _One prize_

 _500 $!_

It red in big colorful letters. All of the less interesting information was written underneath, such as who to contact if you want to enter and where the contestants will be staying. _The Booker's Lodge_.

Cricket took out her phone and snapped a quick picture of the flyer, then delicately ripped one of the strips of paper off of the orange sheet and pocketed it. This could be a major find if she was able to catch it! The Journal had written in it that ghosts were a very real phenomenon and valuable research could be done in a haunted house.

...

Bea had gotten bored being by herself in the apartment, so she had come down and found Joel sweeping the floor and Uncle Cisco drinking Pitt soda and being boring. Bea didn't realize Joel had a job right then, and held up a jar with a praying mantis to him. All he did was stare at it, but Bea didn't notice and blabbered on about the insect. She didn't know very much about it since it was always Cricket who actually studied them. Bea was more of her walking radio.

It was just like what they did back home. Cricket examined the samples, Bea played with them and strummed her guitar.

Bea opened the jar and stuck her hand inside, and the mantis crawled on her finger. She side stepped to get in close to Cisco and soon it was only inches from his face. He stopped munching on his granola bar, taking in the sight of the four inch green insect. He scrunched up his face.

"Look Uncle Cisco, isn't it cute?" Bea asked him.

"…It's creepy." Cisco replied, frowning. He scooted back in his chair.

Bea didn't register his disapproving glare, and kept going. "The girls are pink and eat the boy's head. Isn't that cool? This little guy is gonna have his head ripped off his body at some point."

Cisco peeped his head over the green bug. "Lucky bug. Where's your sister? Go bother her."

Bea retracted her hand and patted the mantis, stroking its tiny soon-to-be-gone head with a gentle finger. "She's out getting snacks. We're spending all day today sorting out her samples."

The door opened with a loud creek, and Cricket walked in.

Cisco breathed in a sigh of relief. "Finally. Take brat number 2 with you."

"Bea! You'll never believe what I found while I was out! Look!" Cricket set the groceries down on Cisco's desk and pulled out the orange strip of paper.

"Orange numbers! Swanky." Bea put the praying mantis on her shoulder and grabbed the paper.

"No, no, it's a competition. To stay in a supposedly haunted house for a night! This is their confirmation call. You wanna do it?" Cricket was already picking up the phone.

"Hmm." Bea thought, and turned her head to the bug perched on her shoulder. He looked back at her. Cricket added the last bit of information.

"Whoever stays the whole night gets a cash prize."

"Let's do it!" Bea jabbed a finger into the air, and the insect wobbled. Everything was quiet for a second as Cricket dialed the number. Bea stayed in her pose. Uncle Cisco shook his head, disgusted by their enthusiasm. The agape jar caught his eye.

"Is that our jar of grape jelly? That thing was half full yesterday!" He objected, confused.

Bea looked at the jar, then patted her stomach, shivering at the implied task she had undertaken just the day before of "emptying" the jelly jar.

Cricket heard a voice on the other end of the line and smiled.

...

The two girls rushed into their apartment, giggling and lightly shoving each other out of excitement. They were accepted! The guidelines stated that they had to go in pairs, and each could choose one object of their desire to bring with them. Cricket readjusted her black gloves she'd used to collect samples and checked she still had the Journal in her jacket's inner pocket. A corner stuck out of the cloth, and she knew what object she wanted to bring.

"What are you gonna bring?" She asked Bea, who was rummaging through her room. She emerged from the mess with her guitar and held it out in front of her.

"Really?" Cricket cocked her head. Not annoyed, just confused.

Bea shrugged and played a short lick, then tuning the A string which was a little flat. Crick opened the Journal and motioned for her sister to join her. She pointed to the page on poltergeists. A sketch of a skull shrouded in mist covered most of the first page. Claw- like misty hands were outstretched in front of it as if it was about to grab something. The other page had a few paragraphs and endless hastily scribbled notes.

"These things are real, Bea." Cricket marveled.

Bea's eyes combed the page. She broke the tension. "… Do you think they'll like guitar music?"

"I dunno, maybe. Look right here, it says that to trap one all you need is a mirror. And it says that if you think you might be near one, one of the telltale signs is that the room will smell like rotten eggs."

"Why rotten eggs? Why not something nice like cake? The specter demographic is such a negative one, but they're just adding to it by smelling bad." Bea gestured to the ghost on the page.

Cricket closed the book and tucked it back in her jacket.

As they left, Bea placed her praying mantis friend back in its jar. But she didn't close it tight enough, because as soon as they left the apartment, the mantis reached up with one of its claws and began undoing the lid.

...

The girls trotted through the woods to the location. Bea held the picture of the orange flyer on Cricket's phone and was reading the entire thing, guitar case on her back. Crick took the lead.

"Hey I've heard of Ghost Harassers before!" Bea exclaimed. "They were always on TV back home-" She did a face plant on the floor, having tripped on a branch. The phone rolled out of her hand. It rolled to a stop at the feet of someone wearing Mike running shoes.

"Nice trip. See ya next fall, Buzzy." An annoying voice made Bea's blood boil. _Zanderick._ He picked up the phone and shook the soil off of it.

There was a kid next to him, wearing an orange hat and a neon green shirt. He was one of the tallest high schoolers Cricket had ever seen, at least 6'6. He was rubbing his hands together

She spit out the dirt in her mouth. "Dirt. That's dirt."

Cricket had never met this kid, and didn't know what to make of him. But Bea dusted off her shoulders and refused to look at him in the eye, giving her a clue as to who he was.

"Looks like this bee likes to stay close to the ground, huh?" Zanderick got another high five from Orange Hat. Bea crossed her arms and focused on a high branch. "Nice one." She said in a hushed tone and grabbed Cricket's arm, intent on removing themselves from the situation.

The boy snickered and pushed the phone into Cricket's stomach and let go. She caught it in her hands after fumbling with it for a second. Zanderick's friend high fived him. "See you at Booker's Lodge, losers." He sneered.

Bea started dragging her sister away. Zanderick smirked and he and his friend kept walking.

"Who was that? One of your friends?" Cricket and Bea entered a clearing and Bea slapped her hand with her forehead.

"Hardly. He's some guy from school. Ugh, I can't _believe_ he got into the competition too. Now we have to spend a whole night with a total jerk." Bea rubbed her temples. "Didn't even talk to him for thirty seconds and I already have a headache. He's messing with my vibe."

"But no one has been able to mess with your vibe since grade school!"

Bea put her sister's hand on her forehead. Cricket gasped. Bea's spunk radiation levels had been greatly reduced. "I'm not feeling the urge to dance!"

"See I told you!" Bea threw her arms in the air.

All of this was very new to Cricket. As far as she knew, her sister hadn't ever had a single bully. Everyone loved her, she was so likable. She didn't have a clue what to do, usually mean comments and cruel jokes were directed at her.

"Hey don't worry about him. We're here to win a contest, and remember: We have a leg up already." Cricket slipped the journal a quarter of the way out to cheer her up. Bea cracked a small smile.

"Maybe you're right. And this way he won't be able to make fun of me anymore!" Bea rubbed her hands together. "Suck on _that_ , Zanderick."

The two left the clearing.

...

A news van was parked outside a dusty and worn out house. The house was the kind of white that may have been new when it was built, but now resembled the same color as a middle aged man who'd never heard of a tooth brush. The roof stood atop a three story structure and was a maroon tint. Uniform square somewhat-shattered windows, an old door with a rusty doorknob, the works of a generic haunted house. The grass around it was brown and partially covering the steps leading to the porch, as well as a good two feet of the walls around the perimeter. A sign hung over the door that read "Booker's Lodge."

A news crew stepped out of the blue and white van (an enormous contrast to the Lodge), led by a short woman with sunflower-blonde hair that curled at the ends just above her shoulders, and a light blue pantsuit. She was beaming at the house, then turned to the camera and cleared her throat. The camera guy, a tall and lanky young man with a red flannel shirt, brown hair, and a goatee signaled 3… 2… and then pointed at her. She remained like a statue for a solid ten seconds before beginning her report.

"This is Gina Catalyst reporting to you live from the Booker's Lodge where twenty contestants have been announced to be staying an entire night in one of the most haunted areas in Gravity Falls. Thought to have been destroyed nearly fifty years ago, the Lodge was rediscovered six years ago today, and the Ghost Harassers are looking to shake up their dynamic by holding a contest and rewarding the winning team with five hundred dollars!"

Bea and Cricket entered the frame when they climbed the steps to the porch. Bea stopped walking and waved to the camera. It was only when Cricket pulled her inside the door with her that she left the frame. But not a second later, Cricket herself reopened the door and gave a quick wave to the camera. The reporter continued.

"The catch? You have to remain in the house for the entire night. Will they be able to do it? Find out tonight. This is Gina Catalyst, and we'll have more at nine, stay tooned." She winked and the cameraman called that they were off air.

...

Cricket walked into the living room where another eighteen people, all her age or younger, were milling around, talking to each other and other groups. One pair sat criss cross on the floor, another two were admiring an old painting. Zanderick pushed through the small crowd and drew a curly moustache on the woman in the painting. He snickered and got yet another high five from Orange Hat. Cricket huffed, and her eyes scanned the rest of the room for her sister. She was greeting her dark haired friend from Videogame Night.

"Conman, what's up!? You got in too?" Bea fist bumped him and turned to his partner. "Lolo, what's good?" The small girl next to Connor was his best friend. She wore a long jacket that went past her waist, and her thick black hair was tied back in a loose ponytail. She curled a fist at Bea.

"Nothing major, worthy adversary. However, we will be victorious and our triumph over the lesser will be awesome!" She replied in an over exaggerated tone. "You don't stand a chance against us, Bea. Not with my EVP monitor."

"Your what?" Bea stifled a laugh. Lolo pulled out a gadget from her jacket pocket and waved it.

"This doohickey can _detect ghosts._ " Conner explained. "We're gonna communicate with it and make friends with it and hang out with it all night."

"That's an oversimplification, but generally yes, that is our plan." Lolo nodded. She and Connor wiggled their fingers together.

"And what did you bring, Connor?" Bea asked him. He pulled out a burrito half wrapped in tin foil and took a bite out of it.

"Genius." Bea admired with wide eyes.

"Can't befriend ghosts on an empty stomach. I am wise beyond my years." He said, mouth full.

Cricket put a hand on her sister's shoulder. "Hey Bea, they're calling everyone into the other room to do a briefing."

The four headed in the direction of the others.

...

Cisco was into the second bag of chips. He had his feet propped up on the front desk and was leaned back in his chair. His hand scrolled down the Chattr feed on his phone. He clicked on a short video:

 _A novice cameraman had taken a series of short videos and linked them together. He shot vertically and stuck a finger out at a guy walking down the street in his late teens._

 _"_ _Dang, Damien!" The cameraman exclaimed at Damien's socks, which were a stylish shade of pink._

 _Each video, Damien was admired by the cameraman for wearing a certain kind of sock._

" _This_ is what passes for entertainment these days? I could easily do better than this buffalo cheese, what with my extensive knowledge of-" A small green limb poked up from behind Cisco's phone. He flinched and brought his phone to his chest. Standing on his desk was Bea's praying mantis. It had tried to crawl up on him. Cisco eyed him uncertainly. He carefully resumed his relaxed position and tried to bat it away.

"Shoo. Go on." He told it. The mantis stayed still. "Go, go on, the door is right over there, get lost." The mantis crawled an inch closer to him. "No, I said- oh what am I doing? This bug might not speak English." He drew a pamphlet out of a stack and put it down in front of the green insect, hoping it would crawl on it. It took a few steps back. "Why do bugs always do this, just get on the paper. I'm gonna throw you out a window."

The mantis snapped at his closest finger with one of its claws and Cisco dropped the pamphlet, pulling his hand away. He narrowed his eyes at the bug. Bringing the bag of chips back out from under his desk, he ate a handful. The bag disappeared back under the desk. Neither Cisco nor the praying mantis stirred. Then without warning, the green bug took flight in the direction of Cisco's face. He yelped in panic and dove underneath the desk. He hated bugs, especially the bigger ones. The bug landed at the edge of the table, and it cast a shadow on the wall. The shadow was huge compared to its actual size, and its tiny movements seemed ferocious. Its jaws snapped open and closed multiple times, and Cisco's eyes widened.

 _"_ _It's out for blood."_ He hissed to himself in an urgent tone.

...

"This concludes the briefing. Are there any questions before the challenge starts?" A woman with one side of her head shaved and a nose ring asked the group of contestants. A hand flew up. It was Orange Hat. He'd been prodded hard by Zanderick to ask the question for him.

"Is _pushing_ someone out of the house allowed?"

The woman dully flipped through the note cards she was given. She made the "more or less" motion with her hand. Zanderick smirked at one of the less tough partnerships, one of Bea's classmates named Douglas, and pounded his fist with his palm. The woman did not see any other hands up, so she threw the cards behind her and walked away. "And begin." She closed the front door behind her.

The twenty contestants murmured excitedly amongst each other. Douglas and his partner, an equally nerdy girl, dashed out of sight to get away from Zanderick's intimidating fists.

Cricket got to work right away. The two girls left the room, hoping to find a quiet room to begin their investigation. Back in the briefing room, there were no eyes on the painting Zanderick had defaced. The eyes on the girl moved eerily to the right.

"First thing to do is set up a base." From inside the same pocket that the Journal was tucked away, Cricket fished out a bag of salt.

Bea gasped. "They said you could only bring one thing?"

"I haven't broken the rules, see?" She had tied the opening of the bag closed and attached the string to the bookmark of the Journal. "Technically-" her voice took on an 'iffy' edge to it and was raised an octave. "-this is totally still one object."

"Oh. Swanky." Bea nodded. "Man I love loopholes." She proceeded to unzip her guitar case and pull the strap over her shoulder. Then she played a few chords together. "I'll play while we're not doing anything. So what's the first step in… whatever it is that you wanted to do?"

Cricket undid the tie on the salt bag and thought about it for a second. She'd run into this contest without thinking about what it was that she had planned to do while in the house. She didn't want to only study the ghost from afar and make notes, and she didn't want to necessarily drive it away. What _did_ she want to do with it?

"Uhh…Hmm. I at least want to get a sample of its ectoplasm. And… if it's verbal, I'd like to record a conversation in the Journal." She started pouring salt on the doorway. "Just in case Mr. Ghost isn't friendly."

...

Back in the other room, most of the other contestants remained sitting or standing around. One group walked around the third floor hallways. Three groups sat around in a circle in a bedroom on the second floor, hands clasped together while one chanted a rehearsed ritual. They were dressed in dark clothing and had clearly entered the contest to make contact with any ghosts in the vicinity.

Zanderick and Orange Hat had a contestant by the collar of his shirt and the belt of his shorts. Together, they tossed him out of the house and onto the dirty ground below through the nearest window. Zanderick grasped one of his wrists and rotated it, popping a small bone back into place in the process.

He paced around the living room. "This house is so stupid. Looks like my grandma's place, all ancient and stone age-y."

Orange Hat pricked up at this. "Remember the last time we went to you grandma's? She made those custard- filled croissants and she let you lick the spoon-"

"Shut it, Alan!" He punched Alan in the stomach, but it barely did anything to him, him being the size he was. Zanderick kicked the old coffee table, wanting to watch the dust fly everywhere. He looked out of the window. A thin, pearly white smile of a moon made the window frame cast a shadow on his face. It was late in the night.

"Let's look for more dweebs to dump out of this dump." Zanderick found the staircase and raced up it. The boards under his feet creaked with age. The dust in the living room settled, and everything was silent.

Some of the dust particles rose from the floor. There was a disturbance in the air. A powerful force sent thousands of specs of dust soaring like waves, and something smacked against the coffee table. A perfect hand print marked its surface.

...

A cloud of dust was dislodged from the boards on the ceiling, and a layer of dirt and filth landed right on Bea's hair and in her eyes. She shook herself vigorously. "Out of all the rooms we had to pick the one under the staircase." She exclaimed. The floorboards above creaked as two sets of feet ran up them. Cricket was busy setting up their base of operations.

...

Zanderick wandered around the hall of the house's second floor. From inside of one of the rooms, he heard someone whispering. He jumped at first. Then, with a shove, he pushed Alan in front of him to open the door first. Alan hesitated, but with one single movement he threw open the door and flinched. Inside were the circle of 6 kids dressed all in black.

Zanderick's skin crawled, but he stood his ground. The one reciting the ritual spotted him and stood still. The rest looked at him with disdain; he'd interrupted them.

"What's going on here?" He asked, resuming his cocky and rude air.

"We wish to summon Misty." The chanter said after a moment, a girl with black hair covering one eye, the other traced in black eye liner. Her skin was pale white, and she wore a black dress with spikey bracelets covering her arms.

"Misty?" He said.

"You haven't heard of Misty, the ghost of Booker's Lodge?" She shook her head and sat down and blew out the largest of the candles. The smoke slithered like snakes through the room. She breathed in, and then out.

"Fifty years ago, when Gravity Falls was still a small, relatively unknown town, Misty Booker ran an inn called the Booker's Lodge." The smoke revealed a flashback. "Travelers seeking their fortune would stay there for a few nights on their way westward."

Misty was shown to be a beautiful woman with long, bleach- blonde curly hair and a blue dress. She talked with one of the travelers, a miner with a long beard. In another scene, she served breakfast to the guests. In the communal living room, a small boy drew on her walls with a red crayon. "She was very well-liked. But the miners soon cleared so many rocks and trees from the area around the town that one stormy night, the ground around the Lodge became muddy with rain, and washed it away. That night, the miners were all out-" Misty said goodbye to the last miner and closed her door. "All except Misty." The giant mudslide crashed against the outer wall of the Lodge, and Misty was flung backwards. A bookcase was launched in her direction, and she screamed. The house was carried away with the sludge. "Word got out that it had been crushed in the mud, others thought it had just been lost in the storm. Until six years ago today." The flashback ended and Zanderick was left stunned. "Sources tell that Misty does not like visitors staying in her inn anymore. She'll go after anyone who dares try to stay the night."

Bea and Cricket heard the whole thing, heads pressed up against one of the walls. They looked at each other.

"It's a good thing these walls are so worn out." Bea patted a part of the wooden ramshackle of a wall and part of it came away. Roaches spilled out from inside. "Do you think it's real?" Asked Bea.

"I don't know. Could be. If so, it'll be a great find for the Journal."

From behind them, a foggy and murky blue figure floated across the doorway. Neither one saw it, but Cricket's spine tingled and a tremor shook her body.

"Y'know, when you shake like that for no reason, it means someone in the future just walked over your grave." Bea offered.

...

Back in the apartment, Cisco cowered under his desk. The mantis's jaws snapped together twice more. He grabbed the open bag of chips next to him and crunched another in his mouth. The bug's head turned in his direction, and he shrunk further.

"I have to make a run for it." He whispered, and gathered himself. The door to the lounge was only a few yards away. With a burst of speed, he leapt out from under his desk and made for the door, bag of chips in hand. He was about to grab the handle, but the insect landed on the copper knob. He screeched to a halt and dashed in the other direction. There was a hallway with apartment doors on either side, and he tried the first one. Open! He slammed the door behind him. A tiny bump on the other side of the door indicated that the mantis had hit it. It buzzed around. Cisco locked the door.

"Arthur! You're here." An old woman behind him said. She was sat on an old fashioned couch, kitting what looked like a scarf in a muted pink color. Taking a good look around, the apartment was all old fashioned. The walls were done in floral print, wooden framed pictures decorated them. A china cabinet displayed porcelain plates, bowls, and cups. A grandfather clock ticked the seconds by. There was even a gold chandelier on the ceiling. The tiny woman got up from the couch and set her knitting materials down. She headed for the kitchen.

Cisco peered through the peephole. "Where are you you six- legged menace?"

"It's been so long since you've visited, Arthur!" The old lady's voice was next to him.

"I'm not Arthur, I'm-" He was going to correct her, but she held out a tray of cookies.

"I saved these just for you!" She smiled sweetly. It was clear that her head was gone. Cisco shrugged and tried one. He choked. They must have been a decade old! The lady put the tray down on the end table next to the couch and sat back down. He stared at her for a second longer, and then focused back on the peep hole. The mantis's head was covering the entire lens and Cisco jumped back.

"What does he want?!" He pounded his fist on the door.

"You always did like those peanut butter cookies." The lady called from her needlework.

He needed to get the taste of those centurion cookies out of his mouth, and opened his bag of chips. But idea floated into his mind.

He handled a chip between two of his fingers. Then he looked back at the bug on the other side.

...

"You'll regret this mistake!" The chanter yelled from the grass. Zanderick and Alan had thrown them all out of the house. The group disappeared behind the trees.

"I regret nothing!" He replied. "Alan? How many more losers do we have left? I promised myself in the seventh grade I would never solve another math problem again."

Alan counted on his fingers. "… Ten."

"I can work with that number." Zanderick nodded and turned to face the door.

In front of him was a soaking wet woman of about thirty years old. Her hair was a tangled, ratty mess, but under the mud it was a shimmering white- blonde. Her dead eyes sunk into her skull, creating dark rings around them. Her blue dress tattered and dull, stuck to her body by the water. She was dripping all over. He wanted to scream, but his throat wouldn't work.

Alan was frozen in place, but then he relaxed and laughed. "Bet you regret it now, huh?"

 _"_ _Red paint."_ Misty seethed.

Zanderick's brow furrowed and he snapped out of his terrorized trance. "Move you idiot!" He swatted at the ghost, and it evaporated. He stepped back, and then ran out of the room, Alan in tow.

Misty phased through each of the rooms, terrifying all of the other contestants who remained in the lodge. _"Red paint."_ She repeated over and over again, searching for something. Or some _one._

 _..._

Connor and Lolo had found themselves a nice room to start an EVP session with Lolo's device.

Connor swung his legs around on an old table while Lolo set up the monitor. It buzzed to life, and her little face brightened.

"It's ready." She raised her eyebrows.

"Awesome! What should we ask it first?" Connor hopped off the table.

Lolo raised a finger and held down the talk button. "Is there anyone here with us?" They waited a few seconds and played back the recording. Something had answered:

 _Yeah I'm here._

"Did you hear that?!" Connor jumped up and down. "A ghost!"

"Shhh! I heard something. It was coming from the cabinet over there." Their eyes rested on the cupboard on the far wall. Lolo pushed Connor toward it, and he tip toed to it. He grabbed the handle, and stared back at his friend. She nodded excitedly and did the signal for 'go on'. He gulped and threw open the door. Crammed inside was… Douglas and his partner.

"Don't tell Zanderick we're in here!" Douglas's voice cracked, as it often did in class.

"We'll have to conduct our investigation somewhere else." Lolo said, giving Douglas a glare of disappointment. But Douglas swooned at the sight of her.

"Hi, Lolo."

"Hello, Douglas." Lolo slammed the cabinet door closed and walked out.

Now in a different room, they tried again.

"Is anyone in here with us?" She asked, more clearly this time. After a few seconds, she played the recording over.

 _[Static] leave my [static] lodge._

Connor became worried. But Lolo kept going. "Why do you want us to leave? We mean you no harm."

"Dude," He said nervously. "Isn't it a given that if a supernatural entity tells you to do something, you do it?"

"Don't worry, it's only a ghost." Lolo reassured him. Turning away from him and fiddling with the controls of the monitor. Connor could see his own breath, and he rubbed his arms together. She flicked it with her finger to get it working properly. "What harm could it _really_ do?"

Fog surrounded the room. Lolo didn't notice, but Connor shook from the cold. He prodded her shoulder, but she shrugged him off. "I've almost figured out how to put the settings on high." A shadow formed on the floor, a silhouette of a woman with long tangly hair. Connor shook her again.

"Dude, I almost have it! Do you want to have a conversation with this ghost or not?" Connor's hand pointed at the foggy shadow on the ground, jaw dropped. Lolo dropped her EVP monitor on the floor, startled. The shadow peeled itself from the ground and formed the dripping wet form of Misty. " _Red paint."_ She said menacingly. She spit out an ear piercing shriek, and the two friends booked it out of Booker's Lodge without a second thought, screaming the entire way out.

...

"Did you hear that?" Cricket heard screaming.

"Misty?" Bea took the neck of the guitar in her hands and gave it a few practice swings.

"Maybe. The Journal gives ghosts a rating from one to ten, ten being the worst. I didn't think Misty would be that high up there, but it looks like I could be wrong." Cricket flipped through the Journal's entries on specters while Bea took a peek outside the room.

"What did you need to catch a ghost again?" She asked, fear creeping inside of her.

"You'd need a manmade mirror or highly reflective surface. Why?" Crick didn't look up from the Journal. Bea backed away from the doorway, guitar dragging on the ground.

"We're gonna need one right about now." Bea held on tight to her sister's jacket sleeve. Misty Booker stood as clear as if she was a real person with flesh and blood on the other side of the doorway. She touched the invisible barrier the salt created, and gazed at it for a while. _"Red paint."_ She whispered eerily. Cricket rummaged around the room, but there was no mirror in sight. Her hands shook with sheer terror. _There's a ghost, there's a ghost, my gosh there's an actual ghost actually here with us._

"Do you have the mirror?" Cricket asked her sister, frantic.

"I thought _you_ were going to get it!"

"Bea, there's no mirror in this room. We're trapped!"

As if on cue, Zanderick and his friend hauled it through the room Misty was in. Alan ran right passed but Zanderick screeched to a halt, having spotted the line of salt. He ran inside the room, carelessly barreling into Cricket. Bea shoved him off. Cricket noticed that Misty was following Alan and had disregarded Zanderick in full. The three watched as Alan ran off through the living room and into a hallway.

"I knew some day he'd be useful." Zanderick said in a huff, leaning against the doorway.

"Wait, you're just going to leave him?" Cricket was actually not surprised by this, but still felt the need to ask anyway.

"Of course I am! I'm not an idiot." He retorted.

"Debatable." Bea muttered.

But Zanderick continued. "I'm staying right here behind that white line where it's-" All three turned to the salt line that Zanderick had destroyed with his unanticipated entry. Cricket jumped at this and immediately got on her hands and knees to repair the various breaks in the lines.

"Safe." He finished, less sure this time.

"Fantastic." Bea slow clapped, and his face turned red with anger.

Cricket spoke up. "Oh no. Most of the salt is either too scattered to recollect, or it's all gone in between the floorboards." She hurriedly dashed to the open Journal on a counter and paged through it, making sure to keep it hidden from their unwelcome guest.

"You two seem to know a _lot_ about ghosts. What's going on?" Zanderick pried annoyingly.

Cricket was barely listening so Bea covered for them. "We're just big fans of Ghost Harassers."

"Pshh. Nerd."

"What was that?" Bea raised her fists.

"Stop it you two. We're gonna get your friend and then find a mirror." Cricket pocketed the Journal.

"Going after the ghost? Count me out." Zanderick waved his hands around in the 'no way' motion.

"Good. Leave. We don't want you in our fan club." Bea said curtly.

Zanderick left the room and started for the exit. A floorboard creaked underneath him, and he jolted. He took another step, but the horrendous sight of green goo seeping out of the walls made him cringe. Ominous music played in the background, and deep laughter could be heard coming from underground.

Cricket and Bea readied themselves to go out. Zanderick fast- walked back inside. "Never mind, where're we going?"

...

"Do you like Cable?" Cisco asked his new buddy, who snapped his mandibles in response. He turned the tv on and an episode of a show called _Kidchen_ was airing. It showed babies attempting to make dishes. One had jam smothered all over its head, and the other one was just playing with a dead fish.

"They don't make 'em like they used to, aye?" Cisco shook his head. He popped a chip into his mouth. The mantis snapped its jaws, and Uncle Cisco tossed him a chip. The bug chomped down on the tasty treat.

...

Zanderick and the girls wandered through the first floor of the lodge. Zanderick was snapping his fingers expectantly. One in particular was louder than the rest, and Cricket gave.

"Why are you doing that?" She asked.

"Usually works. Alan!" He called, and snapped his fingers another three times.

"There!" Bea pointed to a hallway were Alan was cowering in the corner. "Hey! Alan! Over here."

Alan shook his head and rocked back and forth.

"It's kinda nice seeing Alan like this." Bea admitted, giddy.

"Bea." Cricket scolded.

"Oh I'll get him. You two are obviously too scared to." Zanderick pushed passed the girls and made his way toward his friend. Bea composed herself and tapped her foot angrily, and Crick readjusted her glasses and looked on anxiously.

Zanderick got to his friend and bumped him with his foot. "C'mon. Get up, you're making me look bad." Alan shook his head. He peeked out from under his arms, saw something behind Zanderick, and shrunk back. "What's wrong, it's just a dumb old house." The marker was on the floor next to him and Zanderick picked it up. A murky figure cast a shadow over them both.

Zanderick turned around and froze, dropping the marker. Misty Booker floated above him. Cricket looked around for some iron object. Propped up next to the fireplace were a few tools, made out of cast iron! Cricket grabbed one and threw it to him. "Catch!" She yelled. He was a football player and caught it without problem.

"Thanks! See ya later!" Zanderick bashed open the window just above Alan, dropped the iron bar, and climbed out. Alan followed.

"Ooh, when I find him I'm gonna-" Bea rolled up the sleeves of her jersey and started toward the window. But Cricket stopped her.

Meanwhile, Misty was trying with all of her might to escape the house. She forced her hand through the open window, and the air around it wavered and distorted the image of trees on the other side, almost like a force field. Cricket gasped. The image of Zanderick's _red_ marker flashed in her mind. Red paint!

"Zanderick!" Was all she could think to get out.

"Yeah, I know. He left us here." Bea huffed.

"No no no, _Zanderick_! _That's_ who Misty's been after this whole time! Remember before when he 'painted' a 'red' moustache on Misty Booker's picture? _That's what she's angry about._ But her eyesight is almost gone-" Misty's eyes were shown to indeed be mostly gone. "-and she can't see anything, save the red on Zanderick's marker! Whoever has it, she thinks is him."

"Oh, that's easy then." Bea sauntered over to the ghost trying to force its way out of the lodge, and swiped the marker from the floor. Misty's eyes (or lack thereof) locked onto it. Bea returned to Crick.

"Why on _earth_ did you pick it up and bring it here?!" Cricket asked loudly, incredulous.

Bea looked at the marker in her hand, and then had a realization. "I… I don't know. Seemed like a good idea at the time."

 _"_ _Red paint."_ Fog filled every inch of the hall. Misty started toward them.

Bea squinted, and then laughed. "OH! There's a joke here. She's a ghost, and her name is Misty! Now's that's a prime example of cruel irony right there."

"Drop the marker and run!" Cricket and Bea made for the exit, and Bea did as told. The two tore past the front door, and then past the news anchor Gina Catalyst who stood perfectly still, eyes glassy and smile plastered on her face. The camera man had been rolling for a considerable amount of time, and face palmed.

...

[From Misty's obscured point of view]

She saw the 'red paint' in the form of a moustache on her beautiful portrait. She touched her own face, and growled. Then she heard voices outside of the house.

"Home is this way!" One shouted from a distance. Misty arrived at the front door and held out a hand. It touched the force field, and it had a ripple effect on the supernatural force. She saw a hint of red in the distance. It bobbed up and down a top a person. _Red paint,_ she thought. They would pay for what they did to her painting. With all of her willpower, she smashed against the force field keeping her inside. It didn't give. She hit it again. Half of her body was out. She put her hands on one of the beams supporting the roof of the porch and pulled with all of her might. The beam chipped under the immense pressure. Misty was jarred forward. She'd escaped the confines of the Lodge. _Red paint,_ she thought again.

...

"There go our five hundred dollars!" Bea said breathlessly. They'd stopped for a rest.

"Small price to pay to stay alive." Cricket wiped the sleeve of her jacket on her forehead.

Fog surrounded them in a second. "Woah!" Cricket exclaimed. The sisters glanced at each other before being encased in the mist. Cricket could no longer see anyone or any _thing_ around her.

In another section of the mist, Bea held her guitar ready to swing.

Cricket blinked rapidly, trying to get her bearings. "Why the heck is it still following us?! We got rid of the red marker."

 _"_ _Red paint."_ Misty's voice echoed off the trees to her right.

"Crick? Our ghost likes my head a _lot._ " Bea's disembodied voice stammered.

"Think! Think of something! If not a mirror, what else can trap it?" The ground at Cricket's feet turned to mush. She slipped. The mud had a thin film of water on top of it, and in it she could see her reflection.

… Reflection! That was it! Larger bodies of water were reflective on the surface. And on a clear night like this (save the fog Misty was conjuring), lakes were like a perfect mirror. All she had to do was lead it to a pond or lake.

"I've got it." It was very hard to stand back up, but Cricket managed. "Bea! Where are you?! Bea!" She yelled out.

"You don't have to scream, I'm right here." Bea emerged from the right of the wall of fog.

"Oh. I thought-"

"We were right next to each other a second ago, and I'm still-

"Right."

"-five feet away. Yeah."

The mist between them cleared, and the spot Bea had been a second ago was still unobstructed by fog. She had indeed been only five feet away.

"Yeah. _Anyways_ , I know what to do. Follow me."

They decided on heading in a single direction, as it was a sure way out. Cricket hid Bea's vibrant red hair in her jacket for the rest of the way out.

"We passed a lake a while back, that's where we're headed." Cricket located the lake in the Journal. It was known for being crystal clear, thus dubbed "Crystal Lake" by the author of the Journal.

"And you'll need to take this off." Crick took her black jacket back. Misty emerged from the sea of clouds and followed them. The girls dashed off.

Now at the edge of the lake, Cricket placed her sister out in the open. She took her guitar off of her back and leaned it against a nearby tree.

"Crick? I'm not so sure about this."

"Don't worry, you'll do fine." Cricket ruffled Bea's hair and took a step away. Bea stared out into the dark abyss of a forest. Cricket watched intently as well, clenching and unclenching her fists and bending her knees slightly. The billowing murk burst through the tree line. The ground underneath became muddy. Bea's legs wobbled, but this time Cricket was ready.

Misty phased through a pine and hovered toward her sister. _"You. Red paint. Face."_

"You need a vision check, lady, it's not me!" Bea tried retreating, but the lake was behind her. Cricket's eyes moved from her sister to the ghost, back and forth. She took her jacket off and laid it on the floor. Misty was a meter away from Bea, and Cricket dove forward, catching her sister and pulling them both into the freezing water.

Bea broke the surface first, and Misty gazed out at her. Then, at her own reflection. The two dark holes that were supposed to be her eyes widened, and she back tracked. But a supernatural pull latched firmly onto her. Misty fell to the ground, kicking up sloshy gravel. She screeched and wailed, but her form dissolved and she appeared once more in the reflection of Crystal Lake.

Cricket broke the surface slowly so as to not cause a significant break in the reflection, squirting water out of her mouth like a fountain. The girls carefully swam to the edge of the lake and climbed out. Bea admired Cricket's work and the mastermind herself retrieved her signature jacket. The specter wrenched her body forward, but this time there was no force field to break. She was stuck for good this time.

...

Cricket, Bea, and Uncle Cisco were jolted awake by the TV turning on. When the girls had finally gotten home the night before, they'd found Cisco with Bea's praying mantis on the couch watching reruns of an old black and white TV show. Neither of them wanting to sleep, they settled on watching the show until the early hours of the morning, sharing any remaining snacks; Bea texting Connor and Lolo, and Cricket writing in the Journal.

Bea was upright in a second, revealing her tangled rat's nest of hair that had a potato chip stuck in it. Cricket yawned from her position on the floor, having used her black jacket as a pillow. Cisco fell off of the couch, scaring the mantis away and out of an open window nearby. He scowled.

"I thought we had something special." He said to himself.

Joel walked in the room TV remote in hand, and settled himself on the couch. He had gotten a full night's sleep and had his signature bowl of cold cereal in his arm. He flipped through a few channels until he found the one concerning the Ghost Harassers and Booker's Lodge, and Cisco dozed off again. The reporter on the other side of the screen smiled happily and sipped a warm cup of coffee.

"After spending a full night in the famed Booker's Lodge of Gravity Falls, it is now time to see who has stayed."

Cricket scratched her head groggily. "No one stayed, that place was horrifying."

 _But in fact, someone had managed to stay the whole night. Douglas and his nerdy partner emerged from the Lodge, disoriented and squinting from the direct sunlight. His partner stretched her arms and legs out, an indicator that they'd spent the whole night hidden in the cupboard. Douglas was almost blind and stumbled onto the grass, almost tripping. The reporter put an arm around him and he looked into the camera that was shoved in his face, bewildered._

 _"_ _You have just won five hundred dollars! Tell us, lucky winner; how do you feel?" Gina leaned in close._

 _His partner answered. "Cramped." She clutched her stomach, clenching her hands._

 _"_ _We… we won?" Douglas rubbed his eyes. "Yes! My cowardice was good for something for once!"_

"That blows! We should've won the contest, _we_ were the ones who put away the ghost!" Bea pouted.

"We did, but we also didn't stipulate to the parameters of the contest. I hate to say it, but Douglas won fair and square." Cricket bunched up the jacket and rested her head on it. "What I hate more is that we didn't get any good samples."

"That's okay, we'll get 'em next time." Bea's comment lifted Crick's spirits. "Man, so many things I could've done with two hundred and fifty dollars."

Joel perked up at this and reached into his wallet. While he did that, Cricket focused on the collar of her jacket. Something glowed from underneath it. It was ectoplasm. Her face brightened at the find.

Joel pulled out a crumpled up bill and put it on Bea's lap. It was a currency that Bea didn't recognize.


	4. Chapter 4

**Alrighty, here's episode four. Episode five will be out in two weeks, hope you enjoy this one while you're waiting!**

 **Episode: Address the Hippo in the Room**

"This test is going to kill me." Silas and Cricket walked out of their class together in Biochemistry. He was fretting about a test he had in History of World Regions later that week.

"Sorry. If I knew anything about World Regions I'd be more than happy to help you." Cricket rubbed the back of her head. They were headed to the parking lot.

"Yeah I know. Thanks anyway." He gave her a warm smile and she melted.

They rounded a corner. Neither of them spoke for a while, so Cricket's gaze drifted around the courtyard. Several students walked around, some going to the music auditorium instruments in hand, and some were scribbling on paper while speed- walking. Procrastinators, evidently. In one corner, a kid who looked like he should be in middle school sat on a bench and was making a call. His face was an impatient glare. _He looks like a grumpy Chihuahua._

One kid almost bumped into Cricket, he was shaking vigorously. In his right hand was an open cup of coffee and in the other was a can of what was called "Beast". It was a neon green and black can of some mega sugary drink. He promptly poured all of the sizzling- possibly radioactive liquid into the coffee cup and took a long swig. "I'm going to die." He murmured.

"I'm gonna be that guy tomorrow, studying for this test will take all night." Silas sighed.

"Good luck." Cricket offered some moral support.

"Thank you. My ride's here, I'd better go. See you later." Silas waved goodbye and walked off. Cricket looked on for a moment and then headed for the bus stop that would take her home.

…

The lobby was a mess. Bea's fingers were covered in pieces of tape and bits of paper. With her last free finger, she inelegantly attached another flap of paper to a paper airplane. The airplane was a hodgepodge of wings and weights such as staples and even rocks. She looked it over and nodded. Then bent the nose of the plane to the right, and folded the wings to a certain degree. Obviously she'd been at this for a while.

Bea stepped back until she was at the far corner of the lobby. She climbed onto the one seater couch she'd dragged from the lounge. The couch was facing the wall, and Bea had one foot on the cushion and the other on the back rest. She brought the paper plane up to eye height, aimed, and fired it. The couch fell over backwards from Bea's very sudden weight on the back rest, but the plane sailed across the room! It flew over the couches riddled with loose staples, tape, and various colors of construction paper bits. It flew over the coffee table where three pairs of scissors lay strewn around next to a cup of orange soda, half empty. The plane made a very sudden U- turn when the nose moved and caught another air current. It took a dive into the orange soda.

"No!" Bea struck her hand on the ground. She had fallen with the couch and hadn't bothered to get back up. But now she dashed to the airplane and carefully lifted it from the soda. It was now orange and dripping.

She set up a fan on a nearby counter and placed the soaking plane in the path of the drying machine. She turned it on and watched the plane begin its drying process. Bea planned to stay until she could once again fly her contraption.

…

In the lobby, Uncle Cisco walked in with a new magazine his eyes were glued to, and he did not notice the mess. It was only when he went to organize his pamphlets did he see the chaos. Overturned couch, loose paper, tape stuck to every surface, two pairs of ruined scissors, small rocks on the floor, and a trail of sticky orange liquid leading from a cup to the spare room next to the lounge.

…

Cricket's head rested on her hand, which was propped on the bus's window. She was alone in her seat and her feet and legs were bunch up next to her, and the book bag was in the nest created by her legs. She'd pulled the black jacket around her as the bus's air cooling system was right over her seat.

Sleepy from the class's long hours, her eyes butterflied open and closed. In the sky were clouds, one shaped like a turtle. Another shaped like a smiley face. But Cricket's jaw dropped as a dark form broke through the clouds. It had a wingspan of at least twenty feet! It dive bombed and nearly crashed into the roof of an auto repair shop. But regaining its altitude, it took off once again. It flew steadily north for a few seconds, when a small object sailed in its trajectory. It had come from the ground, and it hit the flying animal in the shoulder. It faltered, and teetered from side to side. The sun's powerful glare blocked any discernable features on the creature, but Cricket knew it had just been hurt.

She hailed for the bus to stop and ran out. The creature took off due east.

Cricket had a very hard time keeping up with it. Because while she was busy dodging around streets and buildings, the winged beast's path was unobscured.

"Fly slower!" She uselessly cried at it. Now that the sun wasn't in her eyes, she could fully take in the sight of the enormous creature. Its wings were golden, as well as its chest. Its head was that of an eagle, and its front legs were razor sharp claws. A streak of blood ran down its forelimb and dripped onto the ground far below. _Whatever the injury, it's seriously messing with this thing's flight,_ Cricket thought. Its two back legs, however, were a different story. Instead of a matching set of claws in the back, lion paws kicked at the air. Its tail waved in the sharp breeze, neither a lion's nor eagle's but instead resembling the shape of an arrowhead at the end of a deadly spear. It flew low enough that anyone should be able to see it, but those who walked the streets barely bothered to look up. "This town is absolutely crazy!" Cricket cried again.

All of her breath was soon gone and she had to stop. She leaned against the wall of a store. "Curse you, stamina." She huffed. But off in the distance, the creature had landed on a roof. Squinting and using her hand to block any sunlight, she spotted it… on the roof of her uncle's apartment complex. "Are you serious?! I could've just _ridden there._ " Cricket shook her head, took a deep breath, and headed for home.

Jogging into the apartments' courtyard, she confirmed that the beast was still on its roof. "Someone's hunting it and wants to hurt it. I have to get it to safety somehow." Cricket ran through the lobby and thought for a bit. _I need to lure it somewhere safe._ "I don't know where I can put it, but I have the perfect lure." She dashed into the lounge where she knew Joel kept raw meat in the fridge.

…

While Crick had run straight through the lobby and the lounge, then up the staircase, another conflict was brewing…

"Bea what is all this?! My lobby is _trashed!_ " Uncle Cisco fumed.

"The way I see it, a lot of hard work was put into a pretty sweet outcome! Just wait until my paper airplane dries out, and I'll show you." Bea was confronted by her uncle in the spare room while she waited for her masterpiece to dry. They were now bickering at the doorway.

"I don't want you to show me! I want you to take some responsibility for once." Her uncle crossed his arms.

"I take loads of responsibility." She raised her hands above her head to try to emphasize her stance. "And I _can_ show you."

"Really?" Cisco did not believe her for a second. "How?"

"Uhh… ummm…" Bea hadn't thought of what to say.

"Here, I have a job for you." Cisco reached behind him and took out a note pad and a pencil and dropped them on Bea's hands. "Every month I do an inspection of my buildings. I check every hallway, every apartment, every _crawl space_ , and make sure it's up to code. This, is now your job. You do this and do it correctly, you've proven me wrong. Deal?"

"Well, I mean- I-"

"Unless you can admit you have no sense of responsibility."

"Heck no!" Bea straightened up. "… Fine then. Deal."

"Great-" Cisco pushed some checklists into her arms, a calculator, a few more pens, and then quickly fitted her with a red hat with the apartments' logo on it that was a few sizes too big. "Then you'll need all of this, and these, and uhh… Good luck." He rarely smiled, but a happy grin shown on his face. He strode off to his desk. But half way there, he turned back around. "One more thing, kid, inspecting every part of this complex might take you a few days."

" _What?_ " Bea almost dropped one of the pens, but her reflexes were faster and she caught it midair. "Uncle C-"

"Do you know what responsible people do? Responsible people see things through no matter how big the job."

" _Grr,_ fine! I do a better job than you've ever done, and a faster one too!"

"Raising the stakes are we? Coolio, my record sheet is posted on the refrigerator in the lounge, go nuts. You're a responsible kid? Beat the record and show me."

Bea set off to work, struggling to keep all of the contents in her arms as she went to find a place to get started. Cisco laughed. "I just got out of three days, twelve hours, and forty six minutes of work."

…

Raw meat, Cricket decided right then, was disgusting. She had to roll up both of the sleeves of her black jacket to keep the oozing liquid of both the melting ice and… whatever juices festered within the two hunks of meat from staining them. She entered her apartment backwards, using her back to open the door. Then she took five paper towels from their small kitchen (which was in dire need of a cleanup) and used them to turn the handle and open the door to the balcony. A soft growl from the roof made Cricket's heart skip a beat. She set one of the slabs of mystery meat on the railing and let the powerful smell waft up to the roof.

Then she had to make a decision. "Where am I going to put the thing? It'll destroy our house." She was having second thoughts about luring the creature into her apartment now. But a set of lightning fast bullets whizzed through the air somewhere outside. The thing screeched, and Cricket groaned and made a quick decision to keep it in her room for the time being. She ran inside her very tidy room (It was tidy for the first time in weeks), groaned again, and placed the second slab of meat on her desk next to her lamp. For her possessions' sake, she cleared her desk entirely, emptying the top into one of the desk's drawers. Cricket immediately went into the bathroom to scrub the nasty fluids off of her hands. Something about food substances that weren't supposed to mix with water mixed with water gave her the urge to vomit.

"Ew, ew, ew, ew, gross, gross-" She repeated over and over again. She didn't know why she had this phobia, but her impulsive need to get completely rid of the disgusting fluids kept her from noticing the behemoth that padded through her apartment in search of the other source of food. But the stench of meat dripping from its hooked beak reached Cricket's senses and she turned around in time to see the arrowhead tail sneak past on its way to her room. She stayed still and listened for it.

Soon the sound of chomping could be heard, and Cricket let out a sigh of relief. She creeped out of the bathroom and stood at the doorway to her room. It was beautiful. Powerful muscles rippled under sleek gleaming fur. Elegant wings folded in, feathers every shade of dazzling bronze able to be perceived through the human eye. One wing drooped a bit, and red stained some of the feathers near the connection from the wings to the shoulder blades. Cricket felt a pang of sadness and hurt. _What a gorgeous animal._

"Oh, right!" Cricket had almost forgotten. She rummaged around in her book bag she'd dropped on her way through the kitchen and brought out the Journal. She sat down at the doorway and flipped through it. "Nothing." She flipped through it again. This creature wasn't listed or even mentioned anywhere in the pages.

"It's probably a griffin… a hippogriff? Which is which again?" Cricket took a peek at the creature, who had its beak stuck under her bed sheets. "I should call Silas! He seems to know a lot about this kind of thing- oh wait. He's studying. Griffin… Hippogriff… I'll call it a hippogriffin for now." Cricket jotted it down in a free space at the top of a page concerning another flying supernatural being. "Hipp…. Pogr….iff….fin. There we go-"

The beast's beak prodded her chest hard, and she yelped and fell backwards. She pressed the open Journal to her chest and looked away from the pointed beak. It let out a warm puff of air in her face. Cricket trembled. It could finish her with a single slash of its claws. But instead it stayed there for a long while, staring her down. As if deciding what to do.

With a final snort, it padded back into Cricket's room. She sat up, clutching the book to her pounding heart and taking rapid shallow breaths. Peeking inside the room, she saw the hippogriffin picking at its wound. It let out a soft yet distressed whine of pain when its beak pecked a tender spot.

"Better take a look at that, before it gets infected." Cricket decided and went off into the kitchen cabinet with the first aid kit inside.

She creeped through her room to the hippogriffin. It had nested on her bed, tail wrapped protectively around its hind legs. It growled a deep lion's growl at her presence, so she halted a few feet from it and held out her hand to show she wasn't going to hurt it. A drop of sweat ran down her brow. She inched closer. It growled again. She tried reaching out to it. It probably wouldn't understand her, but she needed a reason to communicate her thoughts out loud. Then maybe this situation wouldn't seem so nuts.

"I want to help you." She tried. Cricket didn't know much in the way of comforting non- humans as she was an expert at instead trapping and dissecting them (mostly bugs), but she did her best at a soothing tone. Maybe it would calm the beast down. It cocked its head at her. "Help?" She pointed tentatively at its wound and stared it straight in the eye, willing it to understand her. Seeing it up close, the injury was clean through its muscle. No bones had been nicked, thank god. Just a flesh wound. But still, it was gut- wrenching to witness. "There's no reason to be scared." Cricket was now only inches from the massive hippogriffin. It had not growled again. That was a start. Their eyes were locked, and for a short time, they seemed to connect. Cricket was breathing through her mouth, jaw wide open, gawking at its magnificence.

…

Bea fixed the authoritative red hat on her head, squishing down her usually bright and wavy pixie cut into submission. She furrowed her brow, clicked a pen in and out and in and out as she paced through one of the massive halls. There were supposed to be four tables, two on either side of the hall and facing each other on opposite walls, with a flower pot, a picture, and a mirror on it. Bea had a checklist with boxes up and down with little images of each object and on the top left to right were the names of the respective halls. She went from table to table checking each of the items off of the list.

Bea had almost never taken anything more seriously than this in her entire life. Expression stone cold, steps even and sure.

Soon her checklist was full of checkmarks and everything seemed to be in its place. "Okay, that's all done." She murmured, looking at the paper and heading back to her table in the lounge with all of the rest of the papers. "That was easy. Huh. Uncle C was wrong, this'll only be a few more hours max." She rounded the corner back to the lounge and groaned. There was still an entire table _full_ of unorganized papers. "Aww, _what?_ " Looking back at the checklist she'd just finished with, she was disheartened to see that the top read _"Easiest Part of Inspection Procedures You Idiot. By Far."_

"Oh no. What the heck did I get myself into?" She sat herself down at the table and eight papers fell to the ground.

…

Cricket was standing on her knees at the foot of her bed and bandaging the hippogriffin's shoulder with caution. Any wrong move and she would get devoured in a single bite. There was no 'how to treat a hippogriffin's flesh wound' on the internet, but she did her best not to cause any further pain to it.

The beast had allowed her to spread disinfectant cream on its injury and had not protested when she wrapped it in white gauze.

When Cricket was done she stepped back to admire her work, first aid kit in hand. "You're sure to heal way sooner than had we just let it sit. How do you feel… uhh… huh. You need a name." Cricket put her hands on her hips. The hippogriffin cooed at this. "It has to be inconspicuous, something that doesn't draw any attention to you. Something like Josh, or Debby. Or Jay… oh, I'll think of one later." She brushed it off. "For now stay here, okay?"

The hippogriffin peered outside Cricket's window and shrunk away from it. Fear flashed in its eyes, and Cricket's heart lurched. Anything able to make a monster of its size cower had to be bad. "You're worried about that hunter, aren't you?" Cricket drew the curtains over the window. "Whoever it is they won't find you here, promise. Just lay low until you're better, then you can take off wherever you want to go." She still wasn't good at comforting, but felt that her solution was doing some good. "Here, I have an idea." Cricket sat on the bed and the hippogriffin looked her in the eye. "Something that always calmed _me_ down when I was stressed is hot cocoa. You ever heard of that?" The beast cooed. She didn't have any other alternatives, so she went with what she had, voice teetering on the edge of uncalm. "I don't speak mythical being, but I'll go get us some, wait here." She clapped her hands together and closed the front door behind her with caution to not cause the beast any more stress. Once outside, she anxiously rubbed her forehead. "I am so in over my head."

…

Bea had taken some time to organize the forms and checklists into piles:

 _Things that I need Yoogle to explain to me_

 _Things I want to make into origami_

 _Things that involve talking to people_ _J_

 _Things that make my heart sad when I look at them_ _L_

She beamed at how organized she could really be. She drummed her fingernails on the clipboard she was using.

Cricket's boots clacked on the cold lounge tiles as she walked in and headed for the refrigerator. But finding her sister, she remembered that she still had someone else to share everything with.

"Oh my gosh, Bea you'll never guess what happened today-"

"Are these too subdivided?" Bea interrupted.

"Subdivided?"

"Yeah, or are there not enough? Because I was going to add another subdivision called _Things that embody the 'graph with the blue line progressively going down' emoji_ , but I thought that might be overkill. Plus every paper I tried filing there also made my heart sad when I looked at it."

"You lost me Bea." Cricket shook her head and grabbed a few instant cocoa packets from a box on top of the fridge.

"Oh duh, yeah; context. I took a job inspecting the apartments for Cisco because he doesn't think I exactly 'radiate' responsibility. But this isn't like any other job I've had before-"

"You've never had a job before." Cricket got a word in.

"-, this is serious. I will destroy that man's record-" Bea slammed her fist down on _Things that make my heart sad when I look at them_ _L_ to punctuate the word 'destroy', " _and_ prove him wrong. I _can_ be responsible. That's why I can't make any mistakes, everything must be noted, any odd smell, every loud noise, everything."

"That is serious."

Bea suddenly shifted the conversation over to Cricket's earlier statement. "So what did you want to say?"

"Me?" Cricket's mind scrambled. Any infraction of their apartment would go straight into her report! She now had zero interest in sharing her news of their new roommate. Bea was, in a sense, in cahoots with their uncle, who would most certainly freak out and get rid of the hippogriffin. "Uh, well nothing- it wasn't anything, I just, uh… Silas! He has this killer test in one of his classes, and he's got to study all night for it." The next sentence was hurried and monotone. "That's it that was the big news."

"Wow. I'm personally terrified of college, only a year away. All my best wishes to him though." Bea fell for her elaborate ruse.

"Okay, yes. Anyways, I've gotta go back upstairs for unspecific reasons, bye." Cricket gave a small wave goodbye and went as fast as she could back upstairs without arousing any more suspicion. She was such a terrible liar, but was thankful that Bea was as gullible and easily distracted as she was.

…

At the door to their apartment once more, Cricket went to open the door… but was surprised to see it cracked open. Fully expecting it to be Cisco who discovered the hippogriffin she burst through the door with a half rehearsed explanation ready.

"Uncle Cisco I can explain everything so this morning-" She faltered and trailed off. Her uncle wasn't anywhere in sight. But something else wasn't either.

"Andrew? You still in here?" Cricket checked her bedroom. No Terry.

"Tammy?" Quieter she worried, "If that thing can camouflage, I'm screwed."

She uselessly picked up a cup in the kitchen to look under it. "Sandy- oh none of these work, I'm so bad at names. And bouncing them off out loud isn't any better than doing it in my head, I just sound like an idiot." She dropped the cup in the sink and went in search of-

 _Alex?_ She pondered the name. "Alex doesn't work either."

…

Cricket spent ten minutes brushing through five hallways working her way downstairs. Through a gap between two hallways she spotted the same golden- bronze tail waving up and down as it slipped through the door to the men's bathroom. The door closed with a loud bump, a big contrast to the otherwise silent building. A little ways away, Cisco was making his way to the same bathroom.

Cricket gasped and ran to stop him. She reached him just in time to slap his hand away from the doorknob and block the entrance. He jumped, startled.

"Cricket, what are you doing? I need to use that." He started for the doorknob, so Cricket side stepped and covered the doorknob completely.

"No you don't! No you don't, because…" She was so notoriously bad at lying back home. Her eyes darted back and forth from Cisco and a nice looking flower pot somewhere behind him. And she tensed one side of her mouth to keep from twitching. _Find a reason darn it!_

"… What do you think I am? Some nerd who does things because she has reasons?" That was all she could think of. She'd heard her sister use the phrase more often than not.

Cisco narrowed his eyes at her. "… Can't argue with that lack of logic." He went away. And every step he took, Cricket relaxed more and more. As soon as he was out of view, she threw open the bathroom door expecting to see her hippogriffin lapping at the toilet water or playing with the automatic paper towel dispenser. But the bathroom was empty.

"Oh, how nice. And who do _you_ belong to?" An old lady in the lobby chortled. Cricket followed the noise and found the hippogriffin being pet by the oldest woman she'd ever seen. The bandages on its wing were blotted with red spots, with one big one in the middle where the punctured flesh was. And what was worse, Joel was sweeping the floor on the other side of the room. But he was focused on his task for the time being.

Cricket was ready to explain everything to her, but found that that was not necessary soon enough.

"What a beautiful cat. Is she yours?" Asked the lady when she saw Crick creeping up so as to not startle the beast.

"Cat? Yeah she-she's mine." Cricket nodded vigorously.

"I used to have a cat. Her name was Esmerelda and she was the most beautiful Siamese you have ever laid eyes on." The lady mused on and on about her cat that had a pink collar with a little bell on it, and Cricket was trying to figure out how a woman as tiny and frail as she was could just keep going and _going_ like that. When she found a good place to breathe, Cricket stopped her and went to collect her 'cat'. It wasn't by the lady's side anymore. She was petting air. She chuckled when she saw that the 'cat' was gone. "Oh, and there she goes again. Slippery ones, cats."

"Ha ha, they sure are, I'll go find her." Cricket said with all of the courtesy she could muster, and continued her desperate search.

The lady shook her head and said to herself, "Yes, yes." She still petted thin air with a shaky liver- spotted hand.

Cricket stopped short in front of the lounge door. She skidded to a halt, black jacket flapping in the air behind her. Inside, Bea was filling out a form, and right behind her was a massive beast of a hippogriffin. It was watching Bea's pencil fill in check marks. It opened its beak and delicately pinched a tendril of Bea's hair. Cricket would have felt fear this time, if her patience for the thing hadn't disappeared. She marched right up to the thing's face and pulled its beak away from her sister. She pulled it close.

"Listen to me right now. I've been all around this stupid building looking for you. If anyone else sees you, you're gone in no time. You wanna fend for yourself out there with a ruthless maniac- hunter and no flight? _Do_ you?!" She whisper- yelled at it. It shook its head. "Then you're going to scoot your butt back up those stairs and sit it down on my bed this _instant._ " It nodded and Cricket let go of its beak, still fuming.

Cricket took a step out of the room, but something crunched under her feet.

Bea's head whipped around. "Huh?" All she saw was the gross egg- colored refrigerator and the door to the lobby. She resumed her paperwork.

Cricket was plastered to the floor as flat as she could make herself, the hippogriffin having matched her moves. She plucked the crunchy thing from her foot. It was a candy wrapper of some old brand of candy. She threw it to the side and put her index finger to her lips. She carefully rose to her feet and scooted the glasses closer to her face. Cricket made it through the lobby to the stairs. The hippogriffin followed suit. She patted its lion back, urging it up the steps. A noise shattered her commanding and confident streak. She slipped on the next step and fell to her knees. The hippogriffin yelped and tripped too. Cricket got to her feet using the hand rail for support. Joel was behind her, face stern.

Cricket didn't know what to say. His eyes flashed from her to the beast, then to her again. "Joel, it was hurt-" Her head reeled. "It needed my help- I- I can have it out in a few days, I can promise you that. But please don't say anything to Cisco. Or my sister."

Joel closed his eyes and his chest expanded. Then his shoulders dropped. His face read, 'fine'.

"Thanks Joel. A few days, promise." Cricket nodded at him and pushed the hippogriffin up the remaining stairs.

…

The next few days were some of the busiest for Bea. Her mind was set on beating that record and demonstrating how focused and responsible she could be. She read one of the forms as she threw some sandals on and walked to the back of the complex where some exposed pipes had been built. She read that if there was a leak, the instructions were to "add duct tape". She spun the roll of tape around her finger and inspected the pipes. They seemed fine. She poked at one and the tape ripped. Water spurted out, drenching Bea's entire upper half. She side stepped and unrolled a good three feet of duct tape, then wrapped it around the exposed pipe. The water roared inside of it, but stayed contained in the pipe. Bea wiped her face with her arm and headed back inside, drawing a check in the box.

The space between the walls was cramped and the amount of mold was astounding. Bea's elbows almost touched as she took the ruler and measured the mold from the wall to the end of the caked on pile. One full inch. She clamped her nostrils closed with a clothes pin and brought out five wash cloths and a bottle of mold- killing spray.

The cool September breeze swept through the grass. Bea was sat criss cross near the back of the complex with a bat on her knee. She signed forms while the bat read them. In the end the bat nodded, and so did the thousand or so other bats whose heads poked out from a wide and jagged crevice under a large chunk of the apartments. The various forms had the bats listed as formal residents.

She power- walked through the lobby, another form and pen in hand. She went to check that the TV was still functional and slowed down her steps. But just as quickly as she slowed down, she sped up, because the TV was not there. It was still plugged in in her apartment. She hastily check marked each box listed for the TV.

Bea handed in the next stack of papers to her uncle while he had still been going over her last stack. Everything was flawless. And not only that, but she was beating him in record time. He knew because he checked his watch, astonished.

…

Cricket watched as her sister was splayed on the couch in the lounge, surrounded by empty Beast energy drinks and papers, and lightly snoring. It was late at night, and for the third night in a row she had not come anywhere near their apartment.

…

Something else that Cricket noticed is that every time she rebandaged her beast's injury, the red marks that blotted through were less and less. The wound was closing and healing very well.

There were parts of the Journal, certain pages that could hold more information, where Cricket jotted down notes about her hippogriffin. It ate strictly meat, so it was a carnivore. It stayed on her bed when it wasn't stretching out or playing with a makeshift cat toy Cricket had made. This one was Silas's idea.

She called him around midday the next day and he suggested to keep it moving around so it wouldn't be stiff when it flew again. His voice was groggy and quiet from his full night of cramming. Cricket had borrowed an old toy from the old lady who lived on the first floor, although it was not exactly a fitting toy for massive claws. Within minutes it was in shreds, part of the mouse on one side of their living room, and another on the balcony. So she decided a few trips were in order.

The first was to a pet store where she bought the largest of the stuffed animals, one roughly the length of her torso, of a mongoose. Next she visited a bait and tackle shop where she bought a powerful fishing rod.

The hippogriffin watched intently as Cricket pieced together a new toy. She threaded the line through the mongoose's abdomen and wrapped it around its stomach multiple times before tying it in the tightest knot she could make. She lifted the heavy toy and the beast pounced on it. But Cricket was faster, and laughed as she pulled the mongoose from under its claws. Since it was cramped in a small apartment she needed a way to tire it out, so this is how they spent much of their time. But she made sure the play wasn't strenuous enough to reopen its injury.

In fact, the creature appeared to have accelerated healing qualities. All of this she noted in whatever space she could find in the Journal. She was learning so much about it. She'd grown attached to it, and the time came when her friend would have to rejoin the wild.

Still there was another problem. How could she know where the hunter was in all of this? They _saw_ the beast on Cricket's roof. They knew it was still there. But when she'd left on many occasions to get more food or supplies or attend classes, she hadn't seen them at all. Crick had gotten back in contact with Silas, who was bone tired from spending his nights studying. They texted back and forth, and she sent him pictures of the hippogriffin. He gave her some practical pointers on how to keep it healthy while it was healing and what to feed it.

"Whatever mystery meat that guy had, your animal took to it real fast. Probably the smell. The best meat to feed an eagle slash lion slash no- one- knows- what is turkey." They often talked on the phone late at night. One time he sent her a picture of him at his desk trying out the Beast energy drink in coffee that the jittery kid on campus was trying out. She gave him an " _lol be careful"_ in return.

And all of the effort was for naught in the end if the hunter got to it anyway. Something had to be done about them so the hippogriffin had a real chance to get away.

…

On the third day, when her beast was just about ready to fly again, she poured over the Journal for anything on "hunters". One page described an encounter with one. The illustration was that of a hooded figure wielding a long serrated knife, and the layout was not a regular one. The bottom paragraph read:

 _I would have to agree that there are some supernatural creatures that are undoubtedly dangerous, however the blatant ruthlessness of this man is inexcusable. His weapon of choice is a rifle of all weapons, and he has no trouble interfering with my studies. And from my unfortunate encounter with him today, he apparently has no regard for life of any kind. Something will have to be done about him immediately._

A squawk from her room made her turn her head. The hippogriffin flapped its wings up and down. It was ready to go. But it couldn't, not with the probability that whoever was hunting it was still close by. She had to do something.

There was a strong breeze on that particular day. And though it was helpful for what she had planned to do, it also made the climb to the roof that much more dangerous. But, if she was going to find out if the hunter was still there, this is what she had to do.

At the top of her roof, at the highest point of the building, she unwrapped a large golden towel. She bent down to gain momentum, and then threw the towel up as hard as she could. It caught the air current. There was no time to do a single thing else because two bullets whizzed past and tore two holes in the sheet.

"Woah!" Cricket jumped back and fell. But she twisted herself around onto her stomach. "Gotta think fast!" She followed the trajectory of the bullets and traced them to an alley on the other side of the plaza. Something caught the sun rays and glinted through the shadows. It was a shiny object located where someone's pocket would usually be. The silhouette of someone moved around! The hunter! "Gotcha!"

Cricket sprinted down the fire escape, skipping three steps at a time. The shadow of a person hadn't seen her yet. Whoever they were, they didn't want to be seen by anyone either.

"You!" She yelled at them when she was a third of the way across the courtyard. And they bolted in the other direction. Cricket ran after them.

…

The brunette was not a good runner. But she'd run more in the past three weeks than she'd ever run before. Away from the ghost, away from the Werevamps, and now after a deadly hunter. Her life was turned upside down! This time, however, it was _she_ who was the danger, the thing someone else wanted to get away from. It was nice for that to be the case for a change.

The hunter spilled trashcans in their wake through the alley. Cricket avoided them all. Finally in the light of day she would be able to take a good look at them. All that she could discern was the reflective object in their pocket. She side stepped an incoming trashcan, bashing her body against the brick wall next to her. They ran out onto the street. Finally!

But they were swallowed by the bustling crowds of the city milling around. "Dang it!" She cursed, and sped up to try and not lose them, but it was hopeless. She made it past the first few crowds, excusing and pardoning her way through. No hunter in sight. Or rather, no one she saw was anyone she could say was them. She didn't even know what they looked like. A traffic light blocked her path, a four way intersection. Cars sped past, a blur in her eyes. But a shadow creeping past a concrete laundromat wall caught her attention. The same glittery object reflected the sun's rays. It disappeared down another street, and the chase was once again on.

Rounding corner after corner, Cricket was always a step too short. The only thing she could see to tell her where to go was their shadow. Left, right, right, left, right, left, left, left, right… they inevitably reached the end of town. Cricket didn't feel tired though, she was too focused on driving them away from her home and her winged friend.

A twenty foot drop into a ravine in the woods caught them both by surprise. Only, Cricket's mind worked a split second faster and she caught herself before she took the plunge down the ravine, feet braking and arm lashing out and finding a vine to hold on to. The hunter was not so lucky. They tumbled down the cliff. Cricket held on to the vine with both hands now, only centimeters away from a nasty fall.

At long last she had her chance to find out who it was. But she also had a better chance of getting home way before they did and set the hippogriffin free into the wild. Every second counted now. So instead of waiting around, Cricket caught the fastest bus ride home.

…

Every second also counted for Bea, who was only a mere hour away from beating her uncle's record. She deposited the second to last stack of paperwork on his desk. He was two stacks behind. He wiped his brow, checking his watch again. His eyes darted from his record paper he had on the edge of his desk, back to his watch.

In Bea's base of operations, aka the lounge, only one more stack remained. The last third of leases. She saved the third floor for last. There was a loud set of footsteps running through the lobby. The same familiar clack of boots. Bea wanted to share her triumph with her sister.

"Hey Crick!" Bea greeted her wild- eyed sister.

…

 _Jeez, Bea came out of nowhere! I have to shake her._ "Oh hey." She tried sounding nonchalant. Up the staircase, through the hall in total silence they went. Crick stared straight out the whole time and clenched her hands into fists. Bea scrunched up her nose. A powerful smell made her eyes water.

"Should I have started with the third floor? This place _reeks_!" She clamped her nose closed, searching for the source of the odor.

Cricket didn't smell anything. "I must be desensitized to the smell by now." Bea was a few doors from their apartment. "Don't go in there Bea!" Too late. She was in the messy kitchen by the time Crick got to the door.

"What _is_ all this? Why is it so dirty?" She ran her finger on a wall and wiped off sludge with it. "This is in clear violation of our policy, this is going down in my notes-"

"No, please don't!" Cricket closed the cracked open door to her room.

"Crick, it's kinda nice to know that you'd fall apart without me, but this is inexcusable! If I don't report this, I get labeled irresponsible." Bea scribbled notes on her paper. "Cisco is going to see about this."

"He can't know!" Cricket grabbed hold of Bea's clipboard.

"He can't know _what_? That you're messy? It's not that big of a deal, we'll just clean the mess up later but this has to go on the report and he has to take a look around to make sure there's no-" Bea flipped through the forms. "Dead bodies or, and I quote, "Haggis in the premises". Not sure what that is, but it's simple protocol."

Cricket sighed. "He can't be in here. I'm going to show you something, okay? Don't freak out. And DON'T rat me out." She turned the doorknob to her room and opened the door. The hippogriffin had her bed overturned and was sniffing at some samples she had had hidden underneath.

Bea dropped her clipboard. An idiot grin took over her face. "Oh my gosh! Crick! What is… how did you… where did you… oh my gosh!"

"And you can't tell Uncle Cisco about it." Cricket pressed.

"What even _is_ it?!"

"I call it a hippogriffin."

"Oh I love it!"

"Bea, no one can know. I'm sneaking it out today, and I need you to be with me on this."

"Of course! But-" Bea checked her watch. "But, the record. If I help you there'll be no way I can beat his record… I need to think." Bea's brain was going into overload and she walked out into the hallway muttering _indecision_ , arms crossed. Cricket followed her out.

Bea paced back and forth. "Crick… I haven't lost a bet in my life."

"You're so willing to do anything-"

"Yeah I know."

 _"_ _She's beating me at my own game!_ " A voice came from the vent at Bea's feet. She and her sister dropped down to listen in on the conversation. It was their uncle. The vent connected to the lounge.

 _"_ _I worked long and hard to get that personal record, and now a_ kid _is going to ruin it. Joel, I don't have a lot of things to be proud of anymore. She's doing a bang up job, what can I say? When she sets her mind to something, boy does she put in the effort. Those three days, twelve hours, and forty six minutes are almost the only thing I have to look forward to every month. It's my motivation to do things right."_

"Wow. That's a plot- advancing vent if I've ever seen one." Bea mused. She got back up. "If the record means so much… I won't take it away from him. Goodbye record."

Cricket smiled excitedly. Her hippogriffin was gonna fly for sure now.

…

The sisters walked on either side of the beast, guiding it towards the stairwell.

"Ooh! I have the answer to your name conundrum." Bea had thought up an inconspicuous name for the Hippogriffin. "Call it… This."

"Call it what?"

"No don't call it 'What', call it 'This'. Its name is 'This'. That way if someone asks about it you can hold up any object and say 'I'm taking This outside'. 'I'm getting something for This'. Technically you're not lying, but they won't know the difference."

The perfect name. "Bea… you're a genius."

"I do have a good idea every once in a while. You should listen to me more often."

Cricket snorted and they both erupted in laughter. Bea said in between cackles, "You really shouldn't though, most of my ideas are terrible."

…

So close. They were so close. Having passed Joel already and him having given them a disapproving stare, all they had to do was get it past Cisco. He was reviewing Bea's second to last stack of paperwork. And the girls and This were at the bottom of the stairwell.

"Don't worry about him," Bea said mischievously. From behind her she took out the paper airplane she'd accidentally soaked in orange soda three days earlier. It was stained orange. She leapt out into his line of sight, launched the airplane, and leapt back before he saw her. The airplane flew perfectly through the air and landed on the break room's table.

"What the…" While Cisco went into the break room, Cricket pushed This past the double doors.

Bea was the last one out. Now nothing stood between This and freedom. This unfurled its wings, and the bandage fell off. "Go on. No one's gonna chase you this time." Cricket reassured it.

"This time?" Bea asked.

"I have a lot to tell you."

This took a running start, the flapped its wings and took off. It let out a powerful screech that became a roar. Bea checked her watch. "I officially lost. That's that."

They only got past the double doors before Cisco confronted Bea.

"Do you know what time it is?" He could not hide his satisfaction.

"It's-"

"It's 'I-won-o'clock!"

"Yup. You won." Bea was totally calm. She rubbed her tired eyes and headed back into the lounge where her last stack of papers was.

"Wait, where are you goin'?" Asked Cisco.

"I'm going to finish the job. Maybe I didn't win, but that doesn't mean I'm abandoning my assignment."

…

Cricket was almost done cleaning the apartment. It was very late. There was a knock at the door. Crick put the broom down and opened it. Her uncle was carrying Bea, who was snoring, in his arms. Her hat fell off of her head, and her hair puffed out to its natural size. "She fell asleep at her station, and well… where's her room?" She led him to Bea's room.

"Did she get it all done?" Cricket wanted to know.

"No, but it's fine, I'll do it." He awkwardly bent down and dropped his niece on her bed. Her bedroom was dark and the soft glow of moonlight lit a line tracing his silhouette.

"Did you really mean it? When you said you didn't have a lot to be proud of anymore?" Cricket wanted to get something out of him. His face was hard to see in the dark.

"I did before _._ " He looked at Bea. "But she is one hard- working twerp."

"She grows on ya after a while, take it from me." Cricket rested her hands on her hips.

Cisco stifled a snort. "Maybe. See ya tomorrow." He saw himself out, leaving Cricket alone with her thoughts once more. She set the broom down in the now spotless kitchen. What a peaceful night.

…

Cold hands gripped a machete. It didn't matter that the nights were colder, they would hunt that beast down. They came upon a hill. Obvious animal prints tracked the ground. The beast had rested here for a short while. They bent down and ran their icy fingers along the palm of the print. They had a long journey ahead of them. As they trekked on, something in their pocket caught the moon beams and glinted silver in the light.

 **Hey guys! Sorry chapter 5 is taking so long, I ggot sooo busy these last few weeks with teaching a mini band camp to starting a new job, and now I'll be away all week at a family reunion. Chapter five will be out as soon as I can write, I have not lost interest in writing it, I promise!**

 **Also 5 is a plot related episode, dun run DUNNN. SSo it takes a bit of time to write it all, it'll be a bit longer than a regular episode**


	5. Chapter 5

**Episode 5: Shelved**

Both ear buds in was the only way Cricket could concentrate on what she was doing. She listened to her music mix on its loudest setting because Bea and her friends Connor and Lolo were having a tournament on "Maximum Man" on Connor's game station. Inside her room, Cricket was preparing to go to the public library to drop off some books she'd checked out a few weeks earlier. But first she had to organize the pile between books from her college library and from the public library.

She thought about the merits of both. The public library had a large variety of fiction, which she enjoyed once in a while when she wanted to let her hair loose. The college library's content was purely factual, which served when she was curious about a certain subject. The public one was closer. But the college one had _Silas_. And that did it, college won.

All done. Two neat stacks of books lay on her bed. The public library was closer, so she got ready to go there first, tucking the books into a tote bag.

As soon as she took her ear buds out, arcade- like music filled her ears as well as multiple voices shouting. She went to the single person couch where three whole bodies sat crammed on it. Bea was on the actual couch cushion, while Connor occupied the right arm and rested his elbow on the redhead's head. She didn't seem to mind. And Lolo, the smallest of the three, was perched on the sofa's back rest, leg carelessly tossed on Connor's shoulder. All three held controllers in their experienced hands, and all three pairs of eyes were glued to the TV screen that had still not been returned to its original spot in the downstairs lobby.

"I'll be home in a few." Cricket said over her shoulder before she left.

"Okay!" Bea called to her, not daring to take her eyes off the screen. Cricket shut the door behind her and almost immediately a dazzling chorus of sound came from the TV and Connor shot straight into the air and shot both hands up, dropping the controller and flipping Lolo over the couch as he did so. She yelped and landed on the soft carpet. Bea caught her controller.

"Level fifty seven, _yes_!" He exclaimed.

"You alright?" Bea asked her small friend, craning her neck.

"Uh, I'll live." Lolo's quiet voice rasped.

…

The drive to the library started out peaceful. No traffic, as Gravity Falls was still relatively small compared to most cities. The skies were clear for the most part, and it was a nice Friday afternoon.

Cricket cranked up the music, deciding to have a bit of fun. She had a few discs she'd loaded in her uncle's car when he wasn't looking for times like this. Not many people knew, but Cricket liked pop and rap music. She executed each verse surprisingly well as she drove. She even started snapping her fingers and bobbing her head to the beat.

Soon she pulled up to the parking lot and turned her music off and headed for the library's main entrance, tote slung over her shoulder. But something was way off. There was a large crowd gathered around a spot next to the doors. She caught a glimpse of a mint green booth through the throng of people. She shouldered her way past them and found the oddest thing. Standing in front of her was the most well- dressed middle school she'd ever seen. At least, he _looked_ like a middle schooler. His hair was platinum blond, shiny, and well kept. He had a flawless complexion with a pointy nose and stood at least half a foot shorter than her. Then it hit her: This was the kid she'd seen the other day on… on _campus_. He'd been the little angry Chihuahua trying to call someone on his phone. But he had a downright cheerful demeanor today. Right then the kid was speaking to someone about a tablet device of which there was a stack sitting on the booth. The crowd buzzed around her and she couldn't quite make out what he was saying. Someone bumped into her and apologized, but she was much less interested in them as she was in the device in their hands. A half glance showed her a list of well- known books, all stored electronically.

The kid found her gaze and immediately smiled wide at her, and she was amused to see there was a distinctive gap between his two front teeth. He quickly thanked the woman he was talking with for her time and addressed the crowd, looking straight a Cricket the whole time.

"I'll return momentarily to answer any more of your questions." Then he made his way over to her.

"Hello. I don't believe we've formally met. My name is Alastair Aldrich, pleasure to have your acquaintance." His constant unwavering yet cheerful gaze was unsettling. "And who might you be?"

Cricket fixed her posture and tried for the same delighted tone. "Cricket Atwood… um, hi."

"I believe I've seen you around the local college, correct?"

"I… believe so." This kid was, for lack of a better term, weird.

"What a turn of fate that we end up here at the same establishment at the same time, no? But how rude of me, you obviously came to see what this-" He gestured to his mint green booth that matched his mint green outfit, "is all about."

Cricket faltered. All she wanted to do was return her books! "I- well- I wanted to… yeah, sure." Completely caught off guard, she was led into the library.

Familiar oak brown walls, tall stands filled with thousands upon thousands of pages of information. This was Cricket's true home. And it was made less comfortable by who she was convinced by this point was an intruder in her sanctuary. Next to the check- out was another booth with a poster with his face on it holding out a tablet. There was a rotating stand showcasing the sleek tablet with a small spot light on it. The reflective screen shined the light right in her eye and Cricket flinched away.

Alastair plucked the device from its stand and brought it over to her. "To put it simply- I want change. This beautiful device will hold every book you could possibly need. No more trips to the library, no more waiting in long lines at the book store, not with the entire arsenal of literature at your fingertips." He leaned on the counter and cocked one brow up, trying to impress her.

"You want to replace books?" Cricket was taken aback. "But then what happens with the library? And all the books?"

"This poor excuse for infrastructure will be taken down as soon as I get the go ahead from the proprietors. Replaced of course with my RadPad. Like the name? My team pushed for a name that would attract the youth of today." He brushed his hand over the side of the RadPad.

"How old are you again?" She asked.

"Fourteen." He answered briskly.

 _You_ are _the youth of today._ Cricket was bewildered. Her beloved library would be taken down! "What if people didn't want your RadPads?"

"Impossible. I designed it specifically so that it would represent the cutting edge of technology." He stated confidently. He stood a bit too close to her. She watched the people outside through a window marveling over the compact tablets. Alastair put a hand on her shoulder, and she focused on their reflection in the glass. "This backwoods town has been behind on technological advances since it was founded. If I remember correctly, cars weren't introduced until the late 1960's! When I' done here, Gravity Falls will be the pinnacle of modern society."

Cricket frowned worriedly.

…

"What are we doing here again?" Bea scratched her head with a wooden picket sign. She, Connor, Lolo, Joel, and Cricket were behind the library, and Cricket had made enough picket signs for everyone. Each had a strong message about keeping her favorite place open. She was determined to get the people on her side.

"We're picketing." She said simply, putting another sign in Bea's free hand and giving four to Joel. While she fitted him with an extra sign that went around his neck, Connor gently elbowed Bea's side to get her attention.

"I've been picketing before. I have many strong opinions. For example their decision to change Yoogle's logo? Insane. I picketed day and night for two weeks."

"You were at Yoogle headquarters for two weeks?" Bea asked in disbelief.

Connor laughed. "Oh pshh no! I don't have the time, money, or means to get there."

…

 _[Connor is stood in front of his computer with the Yoogle search page open holding a sign that says 'Yo Yoogle, not cool dude' and staring at his computer's face cam.]_

…

"I went for the inexpensive route." He nodded.

"And the environmentally friendly route." Lolo commented. She curled in an edge of the thick construction paper from her sign out of boredom.

"How green." Said Bea. Cricket gathered her team and went out front to protest. Everyone was still crowded around Alastair's booth while he was inside, negotiating with the owners about demolishing their building.

And unfortunately, not many people listened to anything any one of them said. Cricket tried to get some of their attention by shouting a chant that the other picketers picked up on. But everyone's eyes were stuck to the RadPad screen.

With the sun beginning to set, the crowds thinned out and the picketers were left alone. Cricket and Joel were the only ones actually still holding their signs, while Bea Connor and Lolo had found a way to have the signs loop through their pants so they wouldn't have to hold them. They were each squatted down and busy making a drawing in the sand together of Maximum Man taking down seven bad guys at the same time. Cricket dropped her signs. It was nearing the end of September and it would be getting cold soon.

Alastair strode out of the public library with a certificate in hand. Looking straight ahead, he trampled Bea's drawing.

"Hey watch it! We worked on this for hours!" Bea protested. The rising dust clouded Connor's eyes as he was squatted down, and he fell back and landed on his back, rubbing his eyes.

Cricket set her last sign down, and Alastair turned around. "Oh, you're still here!" He said, pleasantly surprised. "Was there something else you wished to discuss together?" He asked, as if he was hoping for a particular answer in return.

Crick was bristling with anger. She wanted to yell at him for taking away her favorite place to go. She loved the sound the paper made when she turned the page, the smell of old and new novels and encyclopedias, the quiet atmosphere of people like her sharing in the same activity without physical exertion or conversation. She felt less like an outcast. But she couldn't find it in her to shout. She just wanted to go home. Shaking her head, he then handed her his card.

"Thanks." She muttered and he walked evenly out to the road, hands folded behind his back, where a black limousine picked him up. He watched her with interest as his window slowly rolled up.

Bea got up from her squat and kicked the dirt where Alastair had smudged her and her friend's hard work. "What a bust. Don't worry Crick, we're not done trying. I know how much the library means to you."

She sighed. "Yes we are. He has the go ahead to demolish the library, what else is there to do?" Bea didn't have an answer. She turned back to her friends for support, but they were lost too. Lolo folded her arms and Connor twiddled his thumbs. Bea wrapped an arm around her sister.

"Why don't you go say goodbye to it then?" She suggested solemnly. Cricket let out another big sigh.

"Yeah." She whispered. They all made their way to the library so Cricket could pay her last respects.

…

"You may not have been my library for long, but I probably spent more time here than anywhere else these last three months." She patted the check- out counter.

The middle age man on the other side scrunched up his nose at her. "Ma'am, we're about to close-"

Bea pushed herself across the counter and shushed him. "Don't interrupt her. This is a sensitive time."

"She's in mourning." Lolo clarified.

"Yeah, give her some room you monster." Connor added. The man eyed him and then Bea again, who pursed her lips seriously and stared him down until he gave and took some steps back. Joel lagged behind them.

Soon Cricket had moved on from the counter and the others followed. But the man stopped Joel. "Fine then. If you're staying, _you_ lock up." He put on a dark brown jacket, a hat, and marched out.

Cricket walked through every corner, every isle, shoulders slumped. Bea stayed next to her with a comforting arm, but Lolo and Connor got caught up in the kids' section.

...

Lolo picked up a shiny orange book and gasped. "This was my favorite story as a little kid!"

"Really? What was it about?"

"It was this little girl who lost her kite and went all over following it."

She turned the page and the little girl indeed crossed multiple state lines following her kite.

"I think this story should have more to do with bad parenting." He observed.

"This right here was my childhood. Do you remember your favorite book?"

Connor shook his head. "I was a more TV shows kinda guy. I never really connected with books the way I connect with live characters."

"Oh yeah, now I remember. What a shame. Here, I'll show you." She plopped down on a squishy red kid's chair, and it made an audible squeak. Connor sat himself on the floor next to her. She was a perfect fit for the tiny chair.

…

Cricket combed through the teen angst vampire novel section.

Bea shivered. "Brings back some memories this spot."

"Yeah, but I'll still miss it."

"I know… hey do you hear that?"

"What? My heart breaking? Crunch." She lightly punched her chest.

"No it's more of a… a tiny sob." Bea's head turned this way and that, trying to pinpoint the direction of the tiny sobbing.

Cricket wiped her watering eyes with her sleeve and searched. A tiny voice reached out to her.

"Over here! You!" It came from a shelf at eye level. A book with a blonde vampire and shimmery skin was leaned over and from underneath it came a mouse sized man. He had a long pointy nose, leathery skin, pointed ears, and a brown top hat. His brow furrowed with worry. "You! Can you help us?"

Bea flipped around and gasped. "Holy exclamation!" She breathed.

"My apologies, I would not usually show myself to humans, but we are in dire need of assistance." He worked his hands anxiously, his voice gruff. The little man's feet pattered on the hard wood.

"What with?" Asked Cricket.

"Come with me." He turned around and made his way down the bookcase through a hidden network of ladders. Once on the floor, he pattered across through their legs and the girls had to be extra careful not to step on him. Two sections over in the Historical Fiction section, he climbed two shelves over and pushed a book off onto the floor. Behind it was the smallest house either of them had ever seen. A tiny wooden table, a Kleenex used as a couple of beds, and three other mouse sized people. One young woman with delicate features wearing a dress with an apron, and two young children. Bea tapped Cricket's shoulder and pointed across to another shelf. Countless small heads poked out from between books, some young, some old, and all of them scared.

"We are the Shelf Elves. This is our home." The elf gestured all around him. "The Historical Fiction section is the easiest to stay in because no one ever goes here, but we live all around."

"Isn't Historic Fiction your favorite kind of fiction, Crick?" Bea poked her playfully.

"I stand by the genre." She muttered.

"I bring you to my people's home because it is about to be destroyed. One of our own overheard a human say this."

"It's true!" Another elf piped up, a young man from the bottom shelf with light colored hair and blue clothing. "I overheard him making the deal! This place is about to be leveled!"

"We are ill- prepared to make the journey to find a new place to live. We have children who are too young to travel and elders whose joints ache. We need your help to keep this library open." He pleaded.

Bea gestured with her head for her sister to follow her. Out of ear shot, Bea very seriously said, "You have to help them."

"Bea, what can I do? I'm just a person."

"I know you're hurting, but we've overcome harder things in the past. Back home. If anyone can save this library, you can."

"… I think you're right."

She faced the elf once again. "This library will not close." A chorus of cheers erupted all around her. He extended his hand for her to take.

"Call me Poe." Deep creases marked his skin as he smiled. She took it in her thumb and index finger.

Elves around her cheered and hugged, and some threw confetti in the air. Bea celebrated with them and cracked open a bottle of tiny champagne for them, three Shelf Elves sat on her shoulder and another four on her head. The top hit a light fixture and cracked the bulb.

…

The next day Cricket's mind buzzed with excitement. She had a full- fledged plan ready.

"Unfortunately Joel actually has a job he has to go to, so it's just us." She paced back and forth behind her beloved establishment, Bea, Lolo, and Connor sat down in front of her. "So this is what we'll do-" She dragged her feet along the dirt, marking the ground with her idea. "You three are going to protest, and you're gonna protest hard. I know from experience that you're loud and know how to draw attention to yourselves."

"Wow. How did you know?" Asked Connor, who was wearing a shirt that said in big letters, _Certified Class Clown._ With a little decorative hat on top of the C in "Clown", and the O being a red nose.

"Bea," Crick continued, "I need you especially to keep an extra eye on the booth. Keep people away from the RadPads."

"That's what they're called?" Asked Connor, grinning. "Why does it make me want to buy one? Weird."

"Focus." Cricket begged, exasperated.

"What are you gonna do in all this?" Asked Bea.

"Um, great question. I got the feeling that Alastair thinks of me as a friend, so I'm gonna use his card to call him and see if I can get a closer look at his plans. Because see," She explained pointedly, "Every big corporation has a fatal flaw, a chink in their armor- like, like Yoogle, yesterday one of you said something about how they changed their logo and you didn't like it, right?" She nodded to them, trying to get them to understand.

"Ooh or like Bryson, that huge company that made chicken nuggets shaped like cartoon mouse heads? Turns out their nuggets? _They're not made from all chicken._ " Said Lolo. "But they technically told everyone what else was in it with the nugget shape, so no one could sue."

"Yes, exactly my point. I want to expose his dirty secret, everyone has one. And when I do, no one will want his stupid technology." While Cricket gave her plan of action, she had been drawing inside a dirt box. One smaller box inside had three stick figures around it with exclamation points all around them, symbolizing the three protesters. The other box was bigger and two stick figures were inside. She circled the larger box and smiled. "That's where I'll go."

…

"I am absolutely _ecstatic_ that you phoned me! We will have such a fine day today at my estate. Comfortable?" Alastair and Cricket were seated in the most expensive mint green jet plane possibly ever constructed. Cricket was splayed out in a heavily cushioned seat with cup holders on either side. Alastair was in a twin seat next to hers, her only line of defense being a small decadent coffee table in between them.

"I'm positive we will- is, is this seat cooling _and_ heating my back at the same time?" Cricket squirmed, uneasy. She was not at all used to great luxury, it made her uncomfortable.

"Finest seats money can buy." He snobbishly stated.

"I can see that." Cricket took a look at the rest of the plane. Padded velvet walls, marble floor, a painter sat on a cushioned stool painting their portraits. His easel was probably made of silver.

"You might want to hold a smile for a bit, for the portrait." Alastair suggested, and Cricket managed to twist her lips into a constrained smile.

…

Bea held a firm hand on a megaphone with a rainbow- colored rim.

She had planted herself beside the RadPad booth, and gave anyone who dared go near it an earful. " _Move along, citizens, nothing to see here!"_ She bellowed through the amplified megaphone. One man reached out to get at one of the tablets, and Bea smacked his hand away. He scrambled off.

Her two friends were stationed on either end of the library, each taping posters on nearby poles. Lolo had stayed up late marking balloons with the slogan ' _Take Paper-Backs Back!'._ She tied the first few to some railing, and was now busy tying some more to the flagpole. One slipped from her grasp and went sailing off.

"The balloon!" She gasped. Connor turned his head away from his work on a red poster. Lolo cried, "Dude this is just like the book with the girl and the kite! It's a sign, it's not a coincidence we found my favorite book yesterday! She wants me to catch that balloon."

"Follow your dreams, fulfill the prophecy!" Connor called to her, and she bolted after the balloon. He followed.

Meanwhile, Bea seethed into the amplifier. " _Keeps your hands off the tablets!_ " A woman walked past her, honey brown hair wearing a pink kami and shorts, minding her own business as she read a hard cover novel. She jolted as Bea appeared in front of her. "Ma'am did you know the RadPads you see on _that_ booth are the leading cause of blindness?" She spoke quickly and as formally as she knew how. "I have four scientific studies that prove this and I'll show you only I can't because I don't have them with me." A long silence while the two stared at each other, Bea exaggeratedly staring stone cold, and the woman shrinking away.

The woman began stammering a response, but Bea went on the defensive. "What you don't believe me? I will have you know that I have a degree in Scientific Studies from the Science University and you have my word that everything I say is- is factuous." She finished.

"Humph." The woman looked away from Bea and marched into the library.

"Another soldier recruited. You are too good." Bea mentally patted herself on the back. Wanting to see how her friends were doing, she surveyed the area they'd just been moments ago. But they were both gone.

"Hey guys?" She called, regaining her light tone and dropping her shoulders. No one answered.

"Better not leave my post. My cohorts have deserted me, yet duty calls my name. My task remains." She puffed out her chest and stared out solemnly. The same man from before reached the same hand out to try to get at the RadPads. Bea glanced at him, then did a double take. "Did you not just hear what I said? Touch that and go blind, I have a PhD for goodness sake!" He slunk away. Bea dropped the megaphone on the ground and it made a grinding sound when it hit the hard cement. She wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her jersey. "This is hard work. I hope Cricket's not having too much trouble wherever she is."

…

"No doubt you have heard of my estate before? The name 'Aldrich Industries" ring a bell?" Alastair led her through his lavish home. It was all she could do not to squint, everything in his enormous house was spotless and shining too bright for one not to go blind.

"I'm- I'm ashamed that it doesn't." Cricket got out before stopping to blink several times. Appealing to this piece of garbage required more self-restraint than she first thought.

"Ah, well, that matters not. You will know it once you leave. Come. My factory is just outside." They passed two arching stair cases, both gleaming gold, and two matching spires. Cricket's long gaze of awe was interrupted by a squawk at her feet. She jumped. Looking down, she saw a _swan_. Beautiful feathered white with black undertones, graceful slender neck with a mint green bow tied around it.

"Oh- yes, this is Ebenezer. Ebenezer, say hello to my guest of honor." Alastair patted Ebenezer's wing, and it squawked once again and pecked at Cricket's leg. Alastair chuckled a snooty chuckle. "Playful little thing isn't he?"

Even though it was a short walk from the back of his 'estate' to his factory, it was as decadent as everything else. Luscious green grass, neatly trimmed so not a single blade overlapped the smooth cobblestone path. A perfectly creepy statue of him holding Ebenezer in his arm, considerably taller and… more muscular than the real Aldrich.

Once in the factory, Cricket found herself in a room with one side all windows. Her feet stepping on the cold hard metal and producing an audible echo told her she was a ways from the ground. Looking down, she saw conveyer belt after conveyer belt rolling away. Hundreds of workers' gloved hands fiddled with incomplete versions of RadPads. A few on the far left held electrical wires and wore magnifying lenses around their heads to see the intricate maze of tiny copper lines.

Alastair met her, chest puffed out with pride. "This is just one of many factories located in Oregon. We are a fairly new company, and will eventually expand out of state. Do you like it?" He gazed at her expectantly.

She scrambled for the right words, but then centered herself. "It's fine." She found her angle: "But… I think I'd get a better understanding of why your industry is so great if I was able to know more about it. I dunno, maybe if I could go down there to see how these are made, maybe comb through the archives, documents, see where this all started?" More to herself she added, "Maybe find out that this factory was built over a home for orphan nuns?"

"What was that last part?"

"Nothing, I said nothing. I'm not sure, but I think I could be able to admire your success if I knew more about it."

Alastair's eyes widened. "You admire my success?" He looked down at the ground searching for words. "Then by all means, dig as much as you want."

…

Cricket had somehow gotten her tail to leave her alone for a bit. Alastair got caught up speaking to one of his advisors on the ground floor of his factory. Mr. Advisor wore a stylish mint green suit, just as his employer did. An eerie sensation dawned on her: everyone around her was smiling. The only reason she'd noticed is because Alastair's advisor was the only one with a blank expression on his dull face. Each worker on the conveyer belt worked tirelessly, and it was hot enough for Cricket to be sweating, yet no one around her was.

"Why is everything he owns color- coded?" She muttered as she explored the numerous pathways of the factory. The workers on either side of her ignored her and went about their daily jobs. All of them also wore the same shade of green aprons and hats. Eerie.

"Excuse me." A voice behind her said cheerfully. One worker was carrying a box of miscellaneous equipment inside and waited patiently for her to step aside. When she did, she thought of a few questions.

"Could I bother you for a bit?" She asked.

"Oh sure! I have plenty of time." He said, now walking alongside her. She followed him until he stopped, setting his box down on a long table at the far edge of the vast room. It was as good a time to start as any.

"What can you say about your employer?"

"Who, Mr. Aldrich? Oh he's splendid. Best job I've ever had, for sure!" His Minnesota accent helped with his joyful tone.

"Yeah? And how about the hours?"

"Reasonable as any. I have plenty of time left over to spend time with my lovely wife and kids."

"And the pay?"

"Well above minimum, it was a miracle I found Mr. Aldrich."

The way he referred to Alastair as "Mr. Aldrich" was funny. This man was well into his forties and yet his employer had barely even started puberty. He took a peek at his watch.

"Ooh, break time! Would you like to accompany me to the break room?"

"Okay." Cricket wanted to see if maybe conditions weren't as great elsewhere. But she was dead wrong.

Through magnificent double doors was a spacious break room with an L- shaped leather couch, a fully- equipped kitchen, an HD flat screen television, an aquarium built into the wall, and six other workers, mint green aprons hung on a coat rack next to her.

"Come sit and watch the game!" One of them offered Cricket a seat next to her. She politely took the offer, but flinched as soon as her backside touched the expensive leather couch.

"What's with expensive seats and temperature?"

"I know right?" One of the workers piped up, and Cricket whipped her head around to hear him better. A complaint?! A negative emotion amidst all of the sickening positivity? "Best my butt's felt in a _long_ time!" Nope.

"I can no longer tell whether it wants be to be warm or cool." She muttered.

…

Finally away from the overly nice employees in the breakroom, she focused herself more on the history of this little creep's establishment. In yet another seat, in a well-lit and fancy room in his incomprehensively behemoth house, that was determined to defy the laws of thermodynamics and keep her backside both well above and well below freezing, she immersed herself in every document he could possibly cough up.

The paper she was currently reading was held up to eye level as she read the fine print. _There must be something he's hiding. He kicked a puppy. Spit on an old person. Everything's too perfect._ The next paper she flipped to had a picture of his father shaking hands with the old owner of the warehouse that he converted into the factory. The caption underneath underlining all of the technicalities of the transaction were squeaky clean.

A hand brought the paper down away from Crick's prying eyes. Alastair was leaning in close to her.

"I was thinking you may want to talk a bit. Tell me about yourself."

Cricket set the papers down. "Okay… I like studying-"

"Oh, not here my dear. Come with me."

Together they made their way to the roof. Atop his house was another luscious garden with a sanded cobblestone path that led to a mahogany table. A butler stood motionless with one hand behind his back and the other holding out an extravagant array of food. He daintily set the tray in the middle of the table and left the two alone. The sun began to set over the horizon.

Cricket took her seat, and Alastair his. She fidgeted, itching to get back to her investigation. Alastair took her hand in his, and she flinched, but controlled the urge to jerk her arm away. _I need him to like me._

"This has been a most wonderful evening. I don't get many visitors to my estate, you're one of the first who isn't out to get me."

"I am?" Cricket cocked her head. "Who- who's out to get you?"

"Oh, just people here and there. Anyways, tell me about you. I want to get to know you better."

"Ah, well… I'm majoring in anthropology." Cricket stole a glance at the setting sun. Her day was already over. She was too late.

"Oh anthropology! Most interesting isn't it? The history of mankind and their rise to power over all other beings…" Alastair went on in a soliloquy, but Cricket stopped listening.

…

Bea sprawled herself out on a chair in the children's section. Shouting and running around all day took a toll on her, especially now that she'd taken over her two deserting friends' jobs on top of her own. She closed her eyes for a few seconds. When she opened them again she was met with a small head peering at her upside down. It was the little scout that had overheard the deal between Aldrich and the library owners. He'd introduced himself as Lewis. She sat up and the elf fell from her head onto her open palm.

"How ya doin'?" He asked.

She signed exaggeratedly. "Not good. I'm already exhausted and if Crick doesn't find any dirt on Mr. Mint Green Jerk then… the whole thing's dunzo."

"Not good, not good. When I heard them talking the other day, they set the date for the library to be bulldozed tomorrow." He squeaked. A small voice piped up from the shelf above her.

"You mean… there's nothing else you can do?" The voice came from Poe's daughter, Mary. In her arms was a baby Shelf Elf wrapped in green cloth.

"I didn't say that, I didn't say that! You're better than this, Bea, think!" She raised her eyebrows. "Connor told me all about his protests. Now, I can neither deny or confirm that he's done this himself because he once said he fit 13 jumbo marshmallows in his mouth and still said 'chubby bunny', but he told me one of his tactics was to chain yourself to the actual building so they can't physically tear it down. I mean-" She backtracked. "Unless they're psycho murderers, they won't. But what are the odds of that, right?" Bea got up and stretched. "If Crick isn't back until it's too late, it won't matter. This building isn't going down. You can count on it."

…

Cricket was flown to Gravity Falls once more. What she hadn't grasped when she'd flown for the first time is that she'd left the city to a remote part of the woods. Once she was within city borders, she boarded the first bus that would take her home. The sun had set, and it was nearing seven pm.

In the bus she took the first good look at the goody bag Alastair had given her. The 'goody bag' was more of a goody _basket_ , a very beautiful one at that. _Why did it have to be so pretty?_ She thought with a heavy heart. She unwrapped the package and examined the contents. A RadPad, of course, with a bow of a familiar color tied around it. A few other tablets of varying sizes.

Intrigued, she poked around deeper into the package and removed what appeared to be a watch with a tiny touch screen on it. _Useless._ She decided with an amused snort.

…

Someone shouting woke her from her snooze half an hour later. The bus was passing the public library. Someone was stood right outside the double doors. Were those chains?! Whoever they were, they wore a familiar green jersey and had fiery red hair.

"Bea?!" She launched herself out of her seat, remembering last second to take her goody basket with her. "Stop the Bus!"

The bus jarred to a halt, causing Cricket to lose her footing and careen forward. She was out in the next minute and running to the double doors.

"Bea what the heck, what are you doing?" She wanted to be and sound angry, but sounded and _was_ amused more than anything.

"I'm protesting like you asked." She answered, voice mostly gone from said vigorous protesting.

"I know _that_ , but why aren't you home? It's late." Cricket pulled at one of the chains. It wasn't coming loose.

"Eh, I lost the key." Bea pointed. "Down that pipe over there." The pipe she was pointing to was a good thirty feet away, at the edge of the road.

"How do you lose a key that far away?" She rubbed her temples. Good ole Bea.

Bea shrugged with a small absent- minded smile. "How'd your diggin' go?"

Cricket sat down and covered her face with her palms. "Fruitless. I couldn't do it. He's clean. Did you know the breakroom even has caviar?" She lifted a mint green baggie with left overs she had had for lunch. "It's not that great though, really."

"Surprising. Well no matter. Bea's got this this time." Bea did her best to pat Crick on the shoulder through the chains. "Pat pat." She strained. A Shelf Elf climbed on Bea's shoulder from a hidden space in her jersey. It was Lewis.

"Beautiful night. Whatcha got in the bag?" He asked.

"Leftover caviar." Said Cricket somberly.

"Eh, eh." Lewis extended his arms and open and closed his hands, staring at the bag. Cricket handed it to him, buried her face in her arms, and he got to munching. In between swallows, he said, "Never had caviar before. Read about it. Never had it. Top notch food for a last meal."

"Hey don't think like that!" Bea said, yawning. She sang, "Every li-ttle thing, is gonna be al-right." And with one finger drew Lewis' cap over his eyes.

He fixed his hat and sat down on her shoulder, chomping down on another fish egg.

Cricket reopened her eyes and found Poe and Mary standing next to her, as well as a number of others huddled together. She felt a pang of regret and guilt.

"We were not meant for open spaces, we are too easily made prey." Fretted the old elf Poe, not meeting Cricket's eyes. "Our kind will not survive without our home."

Mary hugged her infant close and dug her face into Poe's chest. He held her tight. Together they led the elves back inside to share in one last night as a community.

And together they watched the star-speckled night sky until they fell asleep, Cricket resting her head on her knees and Bea limp and being held up by the chains with Lewis' bulging full stomach still on her shoulder, each breath causing metal to grind on metal, adding a soft white noise to lull them all into a deep sleep.

…

The hard grind of aging rusting metal and the groan of an overworked engine filled the dawn sky. Cricket blinked several times to focus her vision. She combed her hair back with her fingers and stood up. As soon as she was upright, every hair on the back of her neck stood up. Yellow caution tape traced the property's borders. Orange flag markers dotted the fence the tape created. And men and women in orange vests directed tractors towards the front doors.

"Hey Crick," Bea yawned. "Could you get me another blanket? My bed is lumpy." Dark- ringed eyes closed, Bea shuffled around to try to find a more comfortable position.

Lewis turned over in his sleep, miraculously not falling off Bea's shoulder as she moved around. "Yeah, get me one too if ya don't mind."

"That'll be sort of difficult." Crick said, focusing on the events unfolding around her. "Wait here." She ordered flatly and started for the nearest orange vests.

"No need to ask me twice." Bea went limp again instantaneously, having dozed off.

Cricket combed through for someone in particular. There _was_ one person wearing a vest who was considerably shorter and more arrogant- looking than the rest. He smiled widely at her, that stupid gap between his teeth glaring her in the face. "Oh, wonderful! You have come to watch me make history today."

"No I haven't." Cricket corrected him. She was done trying to be nice to him. She took a few deep breaths, and faced the other orange vested people. "Everyone! Aldrich should not be allowed to bulldoze this library. It… it means a whole lot to a whole lot of people." She hid the fact that by 'people' she meant both book- lovers as well as Shelf Elves. "It's a community. My community. Where people from all different classes and creeds can come together to share in an experience. Not in the comfort of everyone's individual homes, on a dim soulless screen." Aldrich's smile disintegrated, replaced by an evil glare. Cricket's palms started sweating now that everyone from the block was listening to her speech. "And if it's torn down, somewhere, a little lonely girl who always wished she could be a part of something for once… well she'll be broken hearted." She paused, taking in the fact that she'd just described her childhood to a bunch of strangers. She clenched her sweaty fists, lips pursed. _Now for the cherry on top._ "And why? Because this- this person right here," She pointed a finger at Aldrich. "Wanted some extra space for his RadPad."

A long silence dragged out over the entire block. Everyone stood still. Even the bystanders beyond the yellow tape. Alastair broke the silence.

"My dear," He laughed, "you're too late. Don't get me wrong, that was an honorable speech, but your judgment is clouded. You said it yourself, you admire my success. Please, ladies and gentlemen, ignore the lady. She is delirious." He snapped his fingers and two orange vests appeared on either side of Cricket. They lifted her into the air. "Pedestrians should stay _behind_ the caution tape, my dear. It is dangerous." He blew her a kiss, but his eyes betrayed his words. Steely and cold. Cricket batted the air, scrunching her nose in disgust at the thought of _any_ form of kiss from _him_ getting anywhere near her.

"No, listen to me! He- he's a cheat! He's about to commit genocide!" The words tumbled out before she could bite her tongue. But Cricket was desperate. The orange vests carried her beyond the caution tape and would not let her through again. She craned her neck to get a look at the impending destruction for herself.

…

Aldrich dusted his suit off under the peasant vest he had draped on and readjusted the orange hat on his head. The neon color of the vest was mild compared to his red infuriated face.

A groggy voice calmed down the tension- filled atmosphere. "Crick? Where did you go? And where's my blanket?"

Alastair turned his attention over to the girl with fiery red hair who was chained to the doors. "It's the 'artist' who yelled at me over dirt. Certainly don't need any of _those_ in my new store." He muttered deviously. "And we are _fresh_ out of bolt cutters. Tisk tisk tisk. How unfortunate. Manny!" He yelled.

A very short orange vest was at his side the next second. "Manny," Alastair continued, "I want you to be the first kick to the sandcastle."

The orange vest's eyes watered. "It… would be my honor-"

"Just do it before I change my mind." Aldrich snapped at him.

The little man climbed aboard one of the yellow tractors. It had a long mechanical arm with eight bulky claws that clamped closed with the force of a 108.3 gallon engine. It roared to life, smoke spewing out of its three exhaust pipes, which coughed out the dark grey and brown fog like it was sick. It lurched forward, heaving. Alastair had chosen Manny for a very good reason: He was not tall enough to see what was in front of him. In the demolition part one did not have to necessarily be precise, so a great view was not a priority. And how convenient that the driver of the death truck couldn't see the person he was about to squash. No one, _no_ one was to stand in the way of the generously dubbed ramshackle being annihilated.

…

Bea's stomach growled. It was loud enough to wake her up and pat her stomach, unaware of both the cold metal loops wrapped around her and her impending doom.

She yawned, stretching out. "Hey Crick, ask Uncle C what's for breakfast, would ya? I had a rough night, everything hurts." She rotated one of her wrists to try to get it to pop.

"Who's that?" Asked Lewis, scratching his potbelly.

"He's this guy owns the apartments we're staying at. Pretty cool I guess-"

"No I mean who _are_ all those people…? Oh no!" He jumped to his feet. "Aw jeez, it's happening. Wake up!" Lewis slapped Bea across the face, and her eyes fluttered open.

"Wha- hey! What's with the violence? Not cool dude." She got ready to flick him.

"No! Look!"

Bea directed her attention to the giant yellow excavator headed straight for her. "Hey! Excuse me? Excuse me, driver dude? I'm here still! Driver dude?" She fought for her voice to reach his ears. To reach _anyone's_ ears. The machine rumbled along despite her calls.

"It's hopeless, he can't hear me!"

"Yeah, unless he can an' he's that psychopath you talked about!" Lewis spat. "'What're the odds'!"

"I've made a terrible mistake!" Bea cried and wrenched herself sideways. Nothing budged. Lewis dug himself in her jersey.

…

Alastair watched coolly, arms crossed, almost looking bored.

"Mr. Aldrich! Mr. Aldrich!" A man with a high- pitched voice, a moustache, and a hat called to him. He had the most innocent big eyes and long lashes.

"Mayor Cutebiker!" Aldrich straightened his back and shook his hand, eyeing his sash that read " _Mayor of Gravity Falls"_.

"Do you think I could geet a looksee at your new product before it hits the stores?" The mayor batted his eyelashes.

"Absolutely." Alastair said, pulling out the spare RadPad he always kept in his back pocket and handing it to the mayor. The powerfully bright rising sun reflected off of the Pad's sleek screen and shot into the mayor's eyes.

"Ah, my eyes! I can't see!" He shielding himself with an arm, RadPad falling to the dirt. Tears streamed down his face, and the last sentence resonated with the crowd.

"I- I apologize profusely, Mr. Mayor! Bad luck. Perhaps you want to enjoy it under some shade instead, it is quite bright out this lovely morning."

 _"_ _Hey! That scientist girl was right!" "_

 _"_ _RadPads make you blind!"_

 _"_ _I'm not touching one of those!"_

 _"_ _He got the mayor!"_

The crowd behind the yellow tape grew restless. Even the orange vests murmured amongst themselves. They let their guard down enough for one lanky girl to slip past them and haul it towards the double doors.

"Mr. Mayor please, do not listen to the bystanders."

But mayor Cutebiker wanted their input. The man who had tried to snatch a tablet the other day shouted over the others. "She told me herself, RadPads cause blindness! Where _is_ that courageous scientist? She had a PhD and everything!"

 _"_ _Where's that scientist!"_ Some began to chant. It caught on within seconds.

"Stop that!" Fumed Alastair. The chanting grew louder. "Stop it I said!"

…

 _"_ _Where's that scientist! Where's that scientist!"_ Even with the entirety of the block chanting with all of their might, the growling of the excavator's engine drowned them out to the ears of Cricket and Bea. Bea had shrunk away from the oncoming yellow death machine, which was now only feet from her. Chunks of cracked and dug up cement littered the floor, along with handfuls of dirt that spewed in every direction. The tiny rocks stung Cricket's eyes. She had one hand on a chain, and the other on one of the excavator's headlights, elbow locked to try and make it stop. Her arm gave easily from her lack of muscle mass, and the machine grumbled forward. She resorted to using her legs to make a barrier between it and her sister. Her legs were soon pushed up against her chest. Pieces of broken ceiling above them cracked and tumbled down over the girls' heads.

Cricket could no longer breathe. The excavator's deadly metal body was squashing her. But with a loud and ear splitting screech… it braked. Then retracted half a foot. The engine slowed to a deep and rumbling growl, and turned off.

 _"_ _Where's that scientist! Where's that scientist!"_

Cricket's legs hit the ground once more, shaking. She heard the chanting.

"What scientist?" She muttered with a shaky breath. "Wait here." She ordered her sister.

"Like I'm going anywhere." Bea said, gulping.

Checking to see if the excavator was truly harmless now (It was, Manny had left the driver's seat), she headed for the chanting people.

"No! Have you all gone insane?! My technology does not have the capabilities to _blind_ anyone!" Alastair looked about ready to tear his hair out. The Mayor was speaking to the orange vests in a bubbly yet stern tone. Cricket walked by them both to speak to the man leading the protest.

"Excuse me. What do you mean by 'where's that scientist'?" She asked politely, concrete dust cascading down her hair and clothes.

The man stopped chanting. "y'know, that one with the megaphone and the PhD. She's a hero! Warning everyone about the dangers of RadPads."

"… What did she look like?"

"Red hair, green jacket. Do you know where she is?" He questioned.

Cricket eyed the double doors, blocked by the excavator. "Give me some bolt cutters and I think I can find her for you."

Out of the blue, Bea's two friends shouldered through the crowd. Each was more tanned than usual, hair matted and one's eyes were red- rimmed. Connor was wearing dramatically different clothes than before: Blue Hawaiian shirt, flip flops and khakis. Lolo had a snorkel and goggles around her neck, pins from Nevada, Wyoming, Colorado, ect., pinned all over her shirt. She had a dirty red, mostly- deflated balloon tied around her wrist.

Connor took off his glasses, revealing the skin underneath to be many shades lighter than the rest of him.

"We're back. What'd we miss?" He said, eyes squinting.

"And where's that scientist, by Asimov!" Barked Lolo. "Haha," She dissolved into giggles. "I don't know what's going on."

…

After Bea spoke to the crowd about who RadPads caused blindness, Mayor Cutebiker ordered that nono store was to be built to sell any of his technology, a very angry Alastair Aldrich stalked off, cursing their names every step of the way, three showers and a change of clothes, the girls returned to the library. Bea yammered on about their most recent adventure to her tan- lined friends. Cricket let her wander off to the children's section to retell their story, while she met with the Shelf Elves.

"Because of you, my people will live another day. Thank you." Poe stood atop a high stack of books, surrounded by the rest of the community.

They cheered, and Crick's cheeks turned red. "Aww, well… the sun did most of the work there."

Mary broke through the crowd. "Is there anything, anything at all that we could do for you?"

"…Well…" Mused Cricket. She drummed her fingers on the worn surface of the Journal.

…

Alastair threw open the door to his mansion, face as red as a cherry. One shade brighter, and smoke would be coming out of his ears.

He smacked a mint green and white beautifully- crafted vase, and it shattered on the floor.

"Master Aldrich, would you enjoy a cool refreshing beverage?" His butler held out a tray with an extravagant pink colored drink. Alastair slapped the tray out of his hands.

"Clean that up and then do not talk to me. Keep everyone out of my study!" He ordered. "I have a tiny bit of business in the factory to attend to first." He stomped through the garden separating his mansion and the factory.

Alastair threw open the doors. The atmosphere was cheerful. Everyone still smiled, workers milling in and out of the breakroom. "Everyone! Get back to work! No breaks! The ruse is over, don't you know, you imbeciles!" His nostrils flared. The mint green- aproned workers hurriedly found their spots in the hot building. "Double time!" He shouted, and a strand of his platinum blond hair waved over his eyes.

In his study, guarded by his right hand butler, he pushed the clutter off the surface of his elegant mahogany desk including numerous forms, pencils, pens, pictures, two suede jackets and leather one, and a fedora. He ran his hand through his hair to fix it and unlocked a secret compartment on the bottom shelf. He took out a cluttered file and opened it. Inside was an _archive_. Red dashes were scribbled across pictures of supernatural beings. He studied the blurry picture of a Shelf Elf that had been caught scurrying across two rows of books. He circled it with a fat red marker.

"This isn't over." He growled and slammed the marker down on the picture, mutilating the elf's blurry face. "You won this time, filth," he seethed at it, "But mark my words. By the time I am finished with you, there will not be a trace of any of you left."


	6. Chapter 6

**Episode 6: Loch Ness Monster: True or Real?**

 _Choice way to spend the afternoon. Homework done, guitar at your arms, walking through uncharted forest. World's best sister at your side._

Bea's fingers plucked effortlessly on the nylon strings of her meticulously handcrafted redwood McElroy guitar. She hummed along with a melody made up on the spot to accompany the chorus.

Cricket was taken back to a time when this was their daily routine. Northern Arizona was such a distant memory now, as well as the simplicity of life. Perfect days like these only came along once, maybe twice a month. With the wind at her back, the partly cloudy sky overhead, and hours with nothing to do. No job from their uncle, no more homework, no appointments to keep.

Eight samples collected so far, all types of plants. Cricket had borrowed supplies from her chemistry lab with her professor's permission weeks ago and had been performing some experiments recently.

She'd also decided she was going to avoid the supernatural, if only for today. It was too recently that a certain fourteen year old wearing a certain mint green suit with a name she was not going to mention tried to commit both genocide and homicide. She gave this certain fourteen year old a pass on the genocide part because he did not know about it, but the other one…

 _But I'm not gonna think about that today. Today is a break from all of the weirdness_ , she thought. _Bea isn't bothered by it, I won't be either._

And it was true, her sister was unphased as she strolled through the East woods, without a care in the world. If she was aware that she'd almost died three days ago, she didn't show it one bit.

But Cricket's mind trailed off for a while.

It was an absolute miracle what had happened three days ago. It truth, she hadn't been strong enough to stop the destruction of her favorite place as well as the home of hundreds of creatures. This made her stomach churn. She wasn't used to being in this kind of position. In fact, she was used to being bailed out by her sister, her unbelievably lucky, charismatic, optimistic sister, Bea. Everything turned out fine as long as she had anything to do with it.

Those were lives at stake back there. Maybe I shouldn't put myself in these kinds of situations. Which is why today was a break day.

"Woah Crick, watch out!" Called Bea from a few steps behind her. Cricket's legs locked and she jolted out of her trance. She moved the jars out from her field of vision and it registered in her brain that she was at the edge of Gravity Fall's largest lake. Once again, she was bailed out by her sister.

"I- I would've seen it." She mumbled, trying to sound assertive. But she wouldn't have seen it.

Her sister shrugged her off, smiling gleefully. "Alright then. Wanna turn back?"

"No, why- why would we turn back?" Cricket stammered. Her mind was on all of the self-doubt bubbling inside. "Going back isn't an option! Why would you think that? Do I look like the kind of person who gives up?!"

Bea wrapped an arm around her sister. "Hey, calm down. I'm not much of a swimmer, that's all I'm saying."

Cricket faltered on her next sentence. "I just…" She sighed. "I don't know how I'm supposed to do it all."

Bea pursed her lips. "Well, I don't know what you mean, but if you want my advice, don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't do it all."

Cricket raised an eyebrow.

Bea slung the guitar behind her and took a jar out of Cricket's arms. "It's not school work that's gotcha down, that much I know. You love that stuff. But you shouldn't have to do whatever it is by yourself." Another jar. "Or at all." And another. "If you're so stressed about it, make an informed decision, and you might find out that you don't have to do it at all." She paused, calmly searching for a clue that she'd gotten through to Cricket. Then she took one more jar.

Cricket's eyes went down to her arms. Only four jars. Much easier to carry. Then she looked at Bea, who now had half of her load. "I… that helped, I think. Thanks, Bea."

"Hey, whatever I can do to help. Jars can be heavy, 'specially for your twig arms." She threw one in the air and caught it, the small group of plants bouncing around inside. Bea had her moments where she was easily the smarter sister. Even without realizing it.

Under her breath, Cricket made her decision. "Then that's settled. No more weirdness. No more adventures, and no more Journal." She nodded. "I'm done."

Cricket would've agreed to turn around and head back, if it weren't for a far off speck that held her interest a second later.

"Is that an island? Bea, come back, look!" She set her jars down and paced along the waterline eagerly. Bea poked her head through the tree line.

"What up?" She asked.

"An island! And who knows how long it's been there. Do you know what this means?" Before Bea could answer, Cricket interjected, "It means life that's isolated from the rest of the forest, biodiversity, organisms that have evolved for that island and that island alone, completely unique!"

Bea laughed and shook her head. "There's my Crick with the nerd jargon."

Cricket's eyes widened. "I have a strong need. Imagine the samples!"

…

"Thanks for lettin' us use your boat, Joel." Bea patted the rusty metal side of her mute friend's fishing boat. They were a few hundred yards from shore, Joel at the wheel, Bea at the back admiring the boat itself, and Crick at the very front. This was the very thing she needed to distract herself. The water roared underneath her, its powerful waves being cut down the middle by the metal bow. The air smelled of crisp plants and clear lake water. It combed through her short brown hair and blew the locks away from her eyes. An uncertain chord rang out from the back of the boat. Then another. A steady string of chords followed, soon accompanied by a rhythmic strumming.

 _"_ _Weeeeeee're se-tting out to seeeaa!_

 _We're setting o-out for sea!_

 _To adven-ture oh myyyy oh meeee,_

 _The trav-lers Joel, Cri-cket, and Beeeaa!_

 _To Scuttlebutt Island we go, HO!_

 _With no map to tell us where to go, HO!_

 _Yet here we are,_

 _We've come so far,_

 _So Scuttlebutt I-sland, HO!_

 _No monster dare cro-oss our path,_

 _If they do then we unleash our wrath,_

 _We've got Cri-cket's brains,_

 _Joel's might-y gains,_

 _And Bea's dashing good looks completes that!"_

The prose went on for a few minutes. Already some new never before seen plants came into view from Scuttlebutt Island. A bed of thin purple flowers swayed in the cool breeze at shoreline, water lapping at the delicate stems. The island itself was gloomy. Dark and cold, and a layer of fog sat thick in the trees. Cricket squealed with delight.

"Hold on, hold on! Joel, Crick, what the heck was that?!" Bea's alarmed tone alerted the other two boaters to her spot. The red head had put her guitar on the floor and her upper body was hanging over the side of the boat, peering into the darkening water ten feet down.

"What did you see?" Asked Cricket.

"I saw… something. It went under the boat. It was big, like 'hippo ate a rhinoceros who just won a whale- eating contest' big."

"And you're sure it wasn't a trick of the light? Your imagination?" Cricket walked the border of the boat, but no shapes appeared anywhere in the waves.

"My imagination is so extensive I got myself to believe my boring second grade teacher was a pink rabbit with a top hat. That was her only redeeming quality too. But I doubt I'd imagine something like this." Bea explained to Joel, who was pointing a harpoon into the sloshing water.

"We ought to turn back then. I'm not taking any chances." Said Crick grimly. Joel brought the harpoon in close, patted it, and glared at the water as he returned to the driver's wheel.

"Go away." Cricket half ordered half begged it. "I have nothing to do with you anymore."

Joel started up the engine again. Bea swiftly carried her guitar up over her shoulders and strummed furiously before starting a new verse. _"Ooooooohhhhh weeeeeeeeeeeee're-"_ But instead of singing, all that came next was a grunt as she hit the wooden deck. Something had rocked the boat. Hard.

Cricket sailed to the right, almost crashing into Bea and instead smashing her ribs against the metal railing. All the air evacuated her lungs. She fell over onto her back, groaning, clutching her side. A sound like a watery slap hit the side of the boat closest to Crick, and the boat was rocked in the opposite direction. This time Crick tumbled on top of her sister. Scrambling to her unsteady feet, she gasped as she saw that the boat's deck was nearly perpendicular to the white foamy water. She felt gravity pulling her into a watery grave. A slimy dark green fin broke the surface, followed by a sleek green body. Water streamed off of its ragged fins that had tendrils of water-dwelling plants tangled in them. The rest of it was occluded in the dark waves, but its shape was discernable: long, sea turtle- like flippers, a lengthy slender neck, broad head, an ovular body, and a zig zaggy tail. Its figure distorted on the surface, yet anyone could see how massive it was. Cricket didn't care how fascinated she was with sea creatures, this was certain death with fins.

"Joel, floor it! Floor it!" Screamed Cricket. Joel hung from the driver's cockpit. He swung a few times then got his legs on a bar and used the new footing to climb his way back into the seat. He tightly fastened his seatbelt and swerved the wheel. This got the boat upright. The force knocked Cricket off of Bea, who proceeded to gasp for breath and used her guitar as a crutch to get to her feet.

Joel's large foot slammed down on the gas pedal, and they went forward.

He turned the boat around. "Bea, I'll watch to the left, you watch on the right!" Cricket ordered.

"Aye aye, cap'n. Permission to drop sick rhymes as I do so?" Bea barked like a crewman.

"Uh, sure, yeah. Permission granted."

"Sweet, cause the last two minutes gave me a lot to work with. _Ooooooooooohh!"_ She sang, louder to compete with the growling engine:

 _"_ _Weeeeeeee're sailing back to shoooooore,_

 _We're sailing ba-ack to shoooooore,_

 _On land we're safer,_

 _Than on water I must say, for-_

 _We are ad-venturers no mooooore!"_

Bea scanned the waves as she bellowed faster,

 _"_ _Crick you should come over here faaassttt,"_

Cricket limped over to Bea's side of the boat.

 _"_ _If you don't the great view won't laaassst,"_ She sang to imply that Crick needed to hurry the heck up! She speeded up.

 _"_ _I just saw the monster,_

 _Oh wait- no I lost 'er,"_

A roaring, grinding sound was heard from under them, and his fishing boat coasted to a stop. Joel tried the gas pedal again. Nothing.

Bea snapped her fingers a few times to get the last rhyme out.

 _"_ _Ah! Now our lives are a thing of the paaaaaassstt!"_

She finished with a little lick on the guitar, a final strum, and a bow. Then she tucked her six string into its protective plastic case.

Joel leapt out from his seat with his harpoon gun. The waves slowed down, and the boat quit rocking side to side. Even the wind was still. On deck, the three stood back- to- back. Joel took a single tentative step forward to get a better view of the lake. Then another.

Water a hundred yards ahead of them stirred, bubbled, and then formed a dome- like wave around a hulking dark mass. It shot forward with an astounding force.

"It's gonna ram the boat!"

Joel ran to the edge and pointed his harpoon at it, ready to fire. But instead of hitting the boat… it dove under the last second. Joel fired a split second too late, and his jagged spear fired into the murky depths, having missed its target entirely. Joel stared into the abyss.

"AHH, everyone look out!" Bea screamed. In its wake, the lake monster had created a wave twice its size, and it surged forward.

There was no time to move. The wave crashed and swept Cricket off her feet. It was only the railing where her arm locked around one of the bars that she didn't fall off the boat. When the wave had passed, Cricket coughed up disgusting lake water and pulled herself back on deck. Joel was soaking wet, but he was fastened on the driver's seat. He was leaning to one side and turning the wheel as far right as it would go.

Whipping her head around, Cricket was mortified to see that the wave had caused the boat to veer left. It was now headed for the rocky shore. Rocks pierced through the surface of the agitated water, as tall as the boat was wide.

Her black jacket, now soaked, was weighing her down immensely. She tore it off and made for the cockpit. Joel's cap was gone, and water poured down his face. But at least they were both okay.

Bea! Where was she?! Wails of pain came from the bow. Cricket wiped the moisture from her eyes and made it back on deck, almost tripping from the constant rocking. At the tip of the fishing boat a foot stuck out from between two bars of the railing, the rest of the leg disappearing over the side.

"Aggh! My leg!" Her sister strained. The rest of her hung limply upside down. "On the plus side though, really great view." She twisted her upper body to face right side up, but immediately winced and hung back down. She reached up to grab the rails, but her arm wasn't long enough.

"Don't worry!" Called Cricket who was right above her now. Her arms flailed around, unsure of what to do. She touched the stuck foot, but Bea howled.

"Not the foot!"

A black mass surged under Bea until it was a mere five feet from the surface. It moved from under her to below the boat, then beyond to open water. The boat itself was nearing the rocks where it would surely break to some extent.

Water roared far off to the right. The monster was preparing for another attack, another wave. There was only moments left.

"Bea, grab my hand!" Cricket's upper body went over the side and she reached for Bea's hand. Her sister's soaked hand slipped a few times in her grasp until she grabbed her wrist. Then she pulled with all of her strength to get her on deck. Bea was upright and working her foot out from between the metal when a shadow covered them both. The air became cold and humid. The smell of decaying wood and dirt filled their senses. Cricket looked at the thirty foot wave, and lastly, at Bea. Then everything was dark. Dark, and cold. Cricket was no longer holding a hand. Only the darker figures of the cockpit passing her by gave her a hint to where she was headed.

Her head and shoulder hit the deck, and she let all the air out of her lungs. The wave carried her to the edge of the boat until the earsplitting screech of tearing metal rose above the roaring water. In front of her, deck split and sharp rock cut through it. It missed the cockpit, but went on to the other side of the boat. Split it right in half. The wave carried her over the side and into the icy abyss below.

…

Snapping, water crashing, all sounds muted like a foggy distant memory. Cricket opened her eyes and sat up. Clumps of chilly, slimy sand ran down her back, and she shivered. The pain from ramming into the railing rattled her bones. It took a while for her to remember where she was. Boggy trees swayed above her, the moss and fungus clinging to the soggy bark. Small waves lapped lazily at her feet, taking her by surprise. She brought her legs to her chest and took a long, hard look around. Only blue water for hundreds and hundreds of yards on one side, mysterious bog on the other. She herself was at the edge of a small pool that had channeled off of the main lake. Some sharp rocks towered over some untamed waves a little off to her right. A top one was a broken steel cockpit with a red rimmed roof. The driver's seat was untouched except for the seatbelt, which had been ripped in half, edges frayed out. But the glass and metal encasing it were barely salvageable.

Oh. Oh. OH! The lake monster! Cricket clawed at the sand behind her, attempting to get to her feet without losing sight of the water for fear that the monster might emerge while she had her back turned. But the pain in her ribs kept her from making any more sudden movements. She tentatively pressed a hand to her side, pressed harder as if the pressure would keep it from hurting, and with the other she pushed herself off the ground. Her feet found their stability, and Cricket was able to stand somewhat firmly on the sand. With all the weight centered on her feet, she sunk a few inches into the sludge.

"Where is everyone?"

Her eyes wandered back to the destroyed cockpit. The untouched seat. He could still be alive. Knowing what little she knew about her friend Joel, she was certain he'd made it out alive.

"And what about…?" What about Bea?

Cricket dug her legs out of the slime- sand and made it to the jagged stones. One half of the boat stuck out of the waves. The bow. That's where she'd been caught. Cricket searched for footprints on the sand, for any sign at all. A sound like someone passing gas came from her feet. An air bubble had popped from her sinking legs. There would be no footprints; not on this sand. If she'd made it to shore, this was not a way to track her.

A black plastic case sat opened perched in between two rocks near the shoreline. Cricket ran as fast as the throbbing would allow. No guitar in sight.

"Huh. Unless this sea monster likes McElroy's, Bea's out here somewhere." She said, a glimmer of hope rising in her injured chest.

…

 _"_ _The Lake Beast has go-tten us stranded,_

 _On Scu-ttle-butt Island we've landed,_

 _My crew dis-con-certs,_

 _And hey m'foot kind-a hurts,_

 _But my spir-it's not broke it stays candid!"_

Bea limped along the moist undergrowth, hands busily plucking along a little tune. Her entire foot swelled twice its normal size, and yet she got along though the bog with utter determination. The humid air stuck to her face and created little dots of water. She wiped them away.

"There was no sign of anyone at the wreck. They're probably fine, just need to keep playin'. Although…" She got to the base of a towering pine. "It would be nice to get a better vantage point. And a rest for… this." She carefully lifted her leg to check out her swollen foot. She'd been forced to take her shoe off because of the pain.

One leg limp, she climbed up to a tall branch, guitar on her back. "This should keep me safe from ole Ness while I wait for Crick to come get me. Can barely walk." She sighed with relief when she found a comfortable position. The sun gleamed through the canopy and she realized how cold she was when the warm rays hit her skin. A family of strange yellow birds came to rest on a branch of a neighboring tree, ten feet away.

"Hello." Bea waved. One of the tiniest birds chirped back.

"Hope y'don't mind if I play some tunes while I wait for someone." She patted her McElroy and tuned a string. Then a four chord progression, more fluid than her previous ones, filled the heavy air.

 _"_ _Up in the ca-no-py far from the ground,_

 _Two sunny birds sang the most beautiful sound,_

 _Away from the toils of life on the floor,_

 _They soar through the sky forevermore._

Hey! That was a nice one!" She plucked a happy melody and then strummed away, louder. The beams of light bounced off the smooth wood of the McElroy and the thin nylon strings, and lit up the brown- green leaves around her.

…

Cricket shivered uncontrollably. She'd lost her protective black jacket and now the only barrier from the cold was a damp shirt.

"It's the last week of September in Oregon. Figures." She muttered. With the combined cooling temperatures and the humidity of Scuttlebutt Island, she had just turned a corner into Hypothermia Town. "No getting dryer, no getting warmer." Her teeth chattered noisily.

"Ahg, this is such a disaster! The first time I try to avoid the weirdness, and it still finds a way to come to me."

Through some thick moss, Cricket found a muddy bank. A thick layer of green and brown mush tainted the surface. This reminded her of her first night with the Journal. All the mud formed when the storm hit.

"The mud… the mud!" She threw herself into the bank and covered herself in mud and whatever green algae was growing on top of it. For the time being it would be freezing against her skin, but soon it would act as a perfect insulator from the chilly air. She cautiously raked some of the sludge that was more green than brown and rubbed it over the 'problem area' that was her ribs. They ached in the frigid wind.

She'd half buried herself under the slimy ground yards from the bank. "Now I can keep going… but… why on earth do I feel so tired?" She yawned, and leaned on a tall fir. Her eyes fluttered closed. The will to walk was fading. Giving up, huh? It's what I'm good at anyways.

A throaty hiss emerged from the bank, and sludge slid around and plopped back into the brown water. Cricket's eyes flew open. Whatever small sense of security she felt had vanished. It took a second for her vision to focus.

A jumbo plane sized creature had risen from the muck. Sludge dripped from its sleek green body, off its back and its snout. Teeth bared, they shown a light shade of yellow. Its fins were weighed down by the tendrils of moss and other plants entangled along its spine. A closer look revealed a tortoiseshell pattern along its flank. Its small eyes glowed as they scanned the bank. Its nostrils flared as it sucked in air, the flaps protecting its breathing holes opening and closing with each breath.

"It's trying to smell me." Cricket breathed, her whole body tense. "Okay, okay. No sudden movements. If I can stay quiet, it won't see me either." The Lake Monster's eyes were covered by a film of milky white. "It doesn't see well."

It snorted in air and puffed it out with a level of ferocity matched only by Cricket's terror. She tried to control her trembling and the urge to run away as fast as she could. If she could stay still, she would live. But every instinct she had, which were not very many to begin with, told her to leg it. The green monster's neck wavered closer and closer to her. She let out an involuntary squeak, and quickly covered her mouth.

The Lake Monster's head swayed in her direction. _Keep your calm, don't panic! Stay still and you'll be okay! Be better at this._ Cricket tensed all of her muscles in an attempt to force herself to stay still. She mouthed _, I'm not gonna move_ , over and over again. Monstrous eyes locked onto her. But it didn't attack. It's working. Stay still, stay still, She repeated, but her body wasn't having it. Cricket physically could not keep calm and collected. Fear, self-doubt, and utter terror bubbled dangerously near her surface.

One more small, insignificant snort came from the monster, and Cricket bolted up, irreversibly exposing herself. Its nose rapidly sniffed the air and cocked its head. Then its head turned to the side and its eye opened wide to take in the blurry sight of whatever had just moved. Mere feet from her.

"Oh my gosh." Cricket gulped and swayed back and forth, ready to faint. A deafening roar exploded from the thing's throat and columns of saliva hung from its teeth. A six foot long forked tongue curled inward.

Cricket was stunned into wakefulness and the feeling in her legs and arms returned. Putting one foot in front of the other, she limped away at full speed.

She could not bring herself to look behind her. But the roars subsided and melted away into the sounds of the bog. Chest heaving, Cricket collapsed into the mud at the foot of an enormous pine. "I can't. I can't, I can't do anything right. How can I do it? How do you do it?" She thought of Silas, who had everything under control all the time. She wasn't like him, and she didn't want to pretend to be like him anymore. She thought she'd given the supernatural up, to be normal, because Cricket had come this close to getting people killed. They'd given her a responsibility she could not fulfill, and held her to a standard she could not live up to.

"Bea, where are you? I can't handle this alone. I'm not brave enough."

…

 _"_ _The most beau-ti-ful lady he ever did see,_

 _Perched atop a birch,_

 _Above the shining sea,_

 _He thought she was HOT,_

 _So he took the leap,_

 _To ask her on a date,_

 _To get some co-ffee-"_

Cricket stopped crying. "B… Bea?" She got up, scanning her surroundings. The song was coming from somewhere close by.

 _"_ _She said "sure, why not,_

 _I've got nothing else planned."_

 _And then began the love story,_

 _That would last a lifespan-"_

"Bea! Where are you?" Yelled Cricket. She listened closer, and looked up. One foot wearing familiar converse swung from a high up branch.

"Hey, down here!" She called desperately. The song stopped and a face stuck itself out.

"Cricket! Oh, I'm so glad! You found me!" Bea said a quick goodbye to someone and swiftly climbed down. With a final jump, she got to the bottom, one hand on the tree for support, and one bare foot off the muddy floor.

"Are you okay? What happened?!" Cricket gestured to the swollen mass at the end of her sister's leg.

"I dunno, probably twisted-" She responded calmly, "But you're here! I knew you'd find me. What's the plan?"

"The… the plan?" Cricket stammered. She didn't have one.

"Yes!" Bea smiled enthusiastically. "The super intelligent super brainy plan that you always have to win!"

And there it was again. All the responsibility, this time again with lives at risk.

"How about you come up with the plan this time? Just to mix it up a little." _There I go avoiding things again._

"Hmm, I'm no good at plans. But you're on a roll already. You found me like I knew you would, and you've covered yourself in mud to mask your scent, brilliant, and now all that's left to go is beat the Lake Monster and find Joel, and we're golden!"

"Wait a second… you knew I'd find you?" Nausea gripped Cricket's stomach tightly. The thought of someone having that much faith in her made her feel sick, knowing now how inadequate she turned out to be.

"Of course! And you did, so I was right."

"What if I hadn't?"

"Oh c'mon, we both know that wouldn't happen. You're like superwoman."

Sweat formed on Cricket's brow. Her brain was scrambled, too scared from the recent Lake Monster attack to form any thoughts. She was only human. "I… how about we- we find Joel first?" It was a perfect temporary solution. Surely Joel had some sort of plan.

"Great! What'd I say? Superwoman." Bea looked around. "Which way should we go?"

"Uhhh… this way." Cricket chose a direction at random. She wrapped an arm around Bea's waist to take some of the weight off her swollen foot. For a girl who'd experienced being swept off an old rickety fishing boat and was suffering a nasty twisted ankle while being hunted by a shark on steroids, Bea's outlook on life stayed a positive one. And all Cricket was doing was stalling and expecting Bea to have a full-fledged plan and carry her responsibility for her.

"And what was all that about the coffee and the dating?" Cricket asked.

"Oh it's these beautiful birds I found up there, I passed the time by detailing their romantic story. So juicy, you wouldn't believe it. Fleshing out their characters was key, always is with characters, so I came up with and sang each of their backstories. It's beautiful, I'll tell you about it in song."

…

Bea was breathing hard. Her eyes squeezed shut for most of the trip, relying on Cricket to guide her through the island. When she had her breath she sang the detailed fictional lives of the two lovebirds, verse by verse. The male bird was named Herald and the female bird was Brenda, and though it was a sappy love story right off the bat, Cricket found it endearing.

When Bea coughed for a longer-than-usual time, Cricket decided a rest was in order. She sat Bea down at the base of a fir and scouted ahead.

"What now?" She asked herself, having gotten out of earshot from her sister. She took a seat on a large rock and sighed. "It'll be dark soon." The sun was setting behind her, and all of the trees cast long shadows over the murky forest floor. "I don't have my jacket to keep us warm. That's gone. The Journal would be so useful right about now." An itching thought crossed her mind. However unlikely, it was plausible that her jacket as well as the Journal could be near the shipwreck. And she was darned if she let anything else happen to her sister just because she was afraid. She might be done with the supernatural, but she wasn't done being a good sibling.

Her brain went into overdrive as she canceled out possibilities. "If we hail a boat the lake Monster'll wreck it too. Only option is to get rid of it, drive it off somehow. And for that, I need the Journal." And more cold fear washed over her. "Bea might not make it that far. I'll need to prepare to beat this by myself, assuming I don't find Joel along the way. The way..." She thought for a moment. "Which way to go?"

She heard waves nearby, so they were near the shore. But she would avoid the lake until it was absolutely necessary, so she resolved in climbing a tree to get her bearings. At the top she scoped the view. The shipwreck was clear across the island, close to a mile away. A mile and a half if they stuck near the shore, which Cricket was convinced they'd have to to not lose their way. She eyeballed that the shorter route was the right side. "Okay." She reassured herself aloud. "Plan established."

…

After Bea was done singing both of her lovebirds' lives up until the moment they met, she went off on a tangent about finding soulmates.

"Have you *breath* heard about the idea that before you meet your soulmate *breath**gulp*, you can only see in black and *breath* white?" Bea giggled. "Would you say that after meeting 'Mr. Immeasurably'-" She alluded to the Night of Werevamps, "*breath* you see in more… vibrant colors?"

Cricket was caught by surprise. She went on the defensive. "What?! No! What are you talking abo- I think you're noticing things that aren't there. Silas is… cool and all but he's just a friend." _Excellent job throwing her off your scent, Cricket. Smooth._

"You can try to deny it but it's plain on your face, Crick. *Breath**gulp* you can try to fool me but I see right through your love-stricken ruse." Bea erupted in a bout of coughing.

Cricket muttered. "The one time I want to lie convincingly and she chooses right now to pick up on it." Her sister's coughing turned into heaves and they had to stop for another breather.

The extra energy it took to hop on one foot through sinking muck was tiring her out. "Leave me." Bea said in an exaggerated tone, gripping her chest and draping herself over the trunk of a tree. "I won't make it. Remember me as I was." She closed her eyes.

Cricket glanced at the swollen foot anxiously. This is what she had been afraid of. Going at it alone. "Are you sure you can't go any further?"

"I'm only slowing ya down, Crick. I love ya but I'm spent. You go." Bea's grip on her chest weakened and she started falling asleep.

"Ohhh, I can't do it. I- I have to but…" She took some steps away, and some steps back. Then she stomped her foot. "Keep it together!" She scorned herself. Shoulders slumped, she took one last look at Bea.

"I'll be back as soon as possible. I promise."

No answer. Her sister had dozed off. Cricket knew how dangerous it would be for Bea if she tried sleeping the entire night on a frigid night like this. So she got some leafy branches and took the next ten minutes to construct a small blanket- like shelter complete with mud, leaves, and twigs just in case she didn't come back.

"I'll be back soon." She promised. The pain in her ribs was less, by the next day she would probably have one heck of a bruise, but she could tell no bones had been broken.

Then she trudged off into the unknown…

…

…For like, ten seconds before she tripped a wire, a net materialized around her, and she soon hung from a tree. A bell was rung on a nearby branch. Her legs were twisted around in the net, and even though she wriggled around, nothing gave.

Footsteps to her left alerted her of someone's presence. She hung as still as she could. _Because as long as you don't move, it can't attack you, right? Brilliant_. Out of the shadows came none other than Joel.

But he looked very different since they'd last seen each other two hours ago. He had markings made of mud on his face and around his eyes, and he held a handmade spear in both hands. Fastened around his waist was a belt and new pants made of vines and giant leaves. On his head he wore a kind of headdress of the same material. He had basically become a native.

"Joel!" Cricket exclaimed.

He poked her with his spear, eyeing her with curiosity.

"Ow!" She slapped the spearhead away. "Joel it's me! I need your help." The animalistic gleam in his eye vanished. He let her down and she led him to Bea. He stared at her, then poked her with his spear.

"No don't do that!" She pushed the spear away. One of Bea's eyes peeped open. "Pick her up. We're going to the shipwreck, I- I have a plan." Cricket explained.

Bea stirred. "I saw the whole thing. And Joel? If the apocalypse ever happens, I want you on my team, dude. Mad skills."

So together, Cricket leading the way and making sure that they stayed within ear shot of the lake's waves, and Joel carrying Bea, they hiked to the ship wreck. Angry roars sounded off in the distance, yet there was no sign of the Lake Monster so far.

Joel jogged in front of Cricket at one point to stop her from setting off another one of his traps. This one was another net. "My, you've been busy." Cricket commented. "Seriously though, who even are you?"

Joel shrugged and kept going.

…

It was near nightfall when they arrived at the scene of the crime once more. The last rays of sunlight glinted off the waves of the lake, and near shore, the last of the boats were coming into harbor. Cricket's pain was now only a dull ache. A huge contrast to Bea's deteriorating condition. She was pulling through with astonishing bravery though. What a champ. It reminded of the time Bea'd removed a bee's nest from next to their fort in the forests of northern Arizona. All of the bee stings she'd taken, but managed to relocate them to a tree far away from them. Cricket felt envy bubbling in her core. _Why can't I be more like her?_ With her dwindling pain, she was losing hope anyways.

Joel nudged her. They'd arrived. He found the driest spot he could and set Bea down, who proceeded to take her guitar out and beat a rhythm on the side. "I'll be the suspenseful background music while you two look for the Journal thing." She stated.

The waves had died down. The rocks looked more benign. And the cockpit was still stuck on the tip of a jagged stone, giving the bay an overall eerie air.

Cricket scowered as close to the shoreline as she could without trembling from fear. Joel effortlessly scaled rocks.

She lifted stone after stone, branch after branch. Under one was her tattered black jacket. But no Journal. There was a hole where the pocket should've been. "Darn it." She cursed at it and threw it aside in anger. She scanned the waves. Maybe it was floating in the water.

There was a small strip of red at the tip of one of the jagged stones, teetering over the edge. Cricket squinted. "Could it be?"

It was! The Journal wavered, untouched, fifty feet from the shoreline. "I see it! There it is!" She called to her companions with joy. Cricket had her back to the water as she jumped up and down. But a terrifying hiss abruptly ended the celebration. Cricket dashed away from the shore. Sure enough, the Lake Monster had appeared, baring its teeth and snapping its jaws. Its clawed upper fins grasped the jutting rocks. The Journal was right behind its massive body.

"Why, always!" She cried. Furious guitar music unfocused the animal's fixation on Cricket. Nearly a hundred feet away, inching toward the shoreline, Bea played out a fast paced, up beat tune to distract it. Her eyes wide, her face tense.

It slithered slowly away from Cricket and toward the music, and she once again had a perfect line of sight with their salvation. She took the first cautioned steps in the water, but a force colliding with sand had her whipping her head around. The Lake Monster had lunged at her sister, jaw wide open. But Joel had thrown one of many concealed spears at it, changing its head's trajectory. It had missed her by a few yards.

Bea strummed a long chord and reassured her sister. "Go! We're holding it off!"

"O-okay!" It wasn't okay, not in the slightest. Cricket's hands scraped under the pressure of the rough stone as she climbed rock after rock under the more aggressive waters. One foot temporarily slipped and she was sent a few feet down so the water was up past her knees. She closed the space little by little. Fifty feet. Forty feet. Twenty feet. A glance to the shore told her that Joel was doing a good job of protecting Bea while she distracted the sentient jumbo jet. And Bea never skipped a beat.

The last rock to scale was the hardest. Fifteen feet up. But if cricket was good at anything, she was good at climbing. She perched herself atop the rock and opened the Journal as gently as possible to the page where she'd once seen a Sea Monster drawing:

 _Closely resembling the plesiosaur from the late Mesozoic era, this creature-_ "yeah, blah blah, how do I drive it away?" She said with frustration. "I don't need an introduction to it, we already received the full welcome party package."

 _In Gravity Fall's lake this creature has no natural predators, and yet the island located near the center of the lake beckons me. The equipment on the boat I plan to sail to the island is too valuable to risk an attack from this colossal creature, so I will work day and night to genetically engineer an organism to keep it at bay._

Further down the page:

 _This black and yellow eel should do the trick. It secretes a smell that is like poison to the Loch Ness-esque creature's senses. I set it loose at the harbor and watched it nest near the waters of the island. With some remnants of one eel lining my boat, I was able to carry my equipment safely with no chance of an attack._

My organisms will populate the area around the island and soon they will be just another species in the lake.

"But… what?! If the eels keep the Lake Monster away, why is it attacking us when we're on Scuttlebutt? That doesn't make any sense!"

 _"_ _Crick!"_ A sharp cry from Bea. She and Joel were fighting it off, but just barely. Joel threw his second to last spear at it. This one caught in its back fin and was lodged between some vines. "What do we do?! Tell us!"

"It- it says something about black and yellow eels! If we get one or two, the Lake Monster will leave us alone! But-" Cricket tried to explain why they would not work, but Joel was already dragging Bea away from the shore while she played her McElroy. He dropped her off at the tree line and dashed into the woods.

"He _ditched_ us!" Bea seethed and played an edgy lick to compliment the mood. The Lake Monster climbed onto shore to get at her. This was it. "Crick, help me!"

But Cricket would not move. What on Earth did her sister think she could do to help? This was a ten ton monster that was bent on killing and eating them. A scrawny one hundred and twenty five pound girl could do nothing to stop it. There was no way. The image of the monster closing in on Bea brought her back to the excavator about to squish her. Same situation, different circumstances. She hadn't been able to stop it herself last time, why would this be any different?

Cricket tried to find the words to explain it, and one phrase popped into her head.

"I'm not much of a swimmer!" She yelled.

Bea gawked at her, clawing out with her other hand to get at the last spear. "What? The water's barely up to your knees ya doof, get over here!"

"No, I mean- well- you said you didn't want to go into the water because you didn't swim, well, I'm not cut out for all this!" Cricket gestured to Ness.

"Crick this isn't the time to choose your career path and have an existential crisis, I _need_ you!" Bea caught the spear and swung at it. "Noodle arms and all!"

 _This isn't something you choose_. She heard in her head. She knew where it came from. It had been the tiny voice festering at the back of her mind for the last hour. Somehow, she knew she'd chosen this life from the moment she said the words, I'll have the Journal back, thank you. There was no going back from that. Whatever happened next, she had the decision to learn to handle it or not.

…

Bea stabbed the spear into the air. Close up, the Lake Monster's fear- inducing features were even more prominent. Twelve inch nostrils that spit out water with each breath, a glowing set of eyes that saw through her, unmoving. Its snout knocked the spear out of her grasp. Bea tried getting up, but it was an impossibility with her twisted ankle and probably numerous broken foot bones. She got on her stomach and clawed at the sand, trying to get away. She felt the stench of the monster's rancid breath on her back, and adrenaline coursed through her veins. Only, the teeth never sank into her. She peeked over her shoulder.

…

Cricket's hands opened and closed around the splintered wood of the hilt of the spear. Eyes calm, body still, outright provoking the wrath of the lake Monster. Her pants were ripped from her hurried sprint from the rocks to the sand, and finally, to be the last line of defense. The beast roared and lunged, teeth once again bared. Cricket swiped at it with the sharp tip of the spear, knuckles white with the running thought in her mind that truly, even with the readiness to learn how to fight for what she loved, without the spear she was helpless. The spear head left a cut across the thing's upper lip, crossing one of its nostrils. It hissed, oddly colored blood dripping, mixing with water and saliva.

It lunged again. Cricket countered again, this time stabbing the roof of its mouth.

She imagined the excavator pushing against her then powerless arms, and the combined anger of her inability to protect the Shelf Elves and at the complete flop that today had been gave her a new strength.

Its eyes were desperate, and she hesitated. Its cheekbones protruded sharply from under its eyes. Come to think of it, the parts of its body she'd never seen before, whether covered by mud or underwater, were rather boney and gaunt- looking. It was desperately hungry. That's why it had risked going near the eels.

While her insides where wetting themselves with terror, her exterior fought with bravery.

"Yeah, go Crick!" Her sister cheered. A smile crossed Cricket's lips. But the slight break in concentration was all it took for a giant snout to knock the spear from her hands.

"Oh no." She breathed. The creature hissed and prepared to attack.

Heavy stomps sent sloshy sand flying in all directions. Joel's broad figure sailed out of the tree line. He flung a three foot long black and yellow eel at the Lake Monster's head. It caught in one of its fins along with the vines. It violently shook its head from side to side, attempting to rid itself of the eel.

Joel had four in his arms, all dead and each with a distinctive hole through their heads. Cricket took one and threw it with all of her might. It hit the thing's snout and slid off. It bellowed. Joel threw the next that it dodged. With confidence this time, Cricket drew the last eel back, and fired.

It landed square in its mouth. With this, the Lake Monster let out a guttural howl, arching its boney back.

"Aha!" She grinned triumphantly. The Monster sunk back into the sea with a final growl.

"I knew you had it in ya." Bea said cooley, relaxing herself on the sand.

…

" _Threeee ad-ven-tur-rers after a long day,_

 _Decided that on Scu-ttle-butt Island they'd stay,_

 _For a while to rest,_

 _After van-quish-ing ole Ness,_

 _Ad-mir-ing the view of the baaaaayyyy._

How was that?"

Joel had set up a camp for himself that included a handmade tent, a fire, and multiple traps to catch food. What was most impressive was the lures in the water he'd set. The basket near the tent full of fish implied that he'd caught a lot using those lures. Including four or five eels that strayed from their caves under water.

Cricket made a mental note to do something about Ness being hungry later.

Two fish cooked over the warm fire where Cricket and Bea warmed themselves while Joel himself hailed a boat that would take them back to shore.

"It was perfect." Cricket replied, tired to the bone. She knew what she had to do now. No more running. That was no longer an option. There was no room for self-doubt, no room for hesitation. The road ahead would be a long and hard one.

"Hey." Bea nudged Cricket's arm and handed her a cooked fish. Cricket took it and smiled. "It was gonna burn if you didn't take it out." Bea happily dug into her meal, but Cricket just stared at hers. Then she remembered the second part of their earlier conversation.

 _"_ _You shouldn't have to do whatever it is by yourself."_ Bea had said. Cricket could never be perfect. She'd shape the heck up, that was for certain. At least, with her sister by her side all the way through, she would never have to do every little thing.

 **Hey, guys! It's me, Sleepy Apricot! Sorry I haven't talk to you in a while, I've just been super busy with a very, very long family reunion. But I'm back on track and hoping that school starting in two days won't affect my writing schedule, hahahaha *in pain*. I love all of you for just reading it, it's such a confidence boost and I hope you like to read it as much as I like to write it. I know it's not as popular as other authors' work that's published here on this awesome site, but I love each and every one of you anyways :***

 ** _A_ l _s_ o he _a_ ds up, in the episodes F _r_ om this one on I will be le _a_ ving c _lu_ es scattered through at the end. _B_ ec _a_ use believe me, there's a whole huge plo _t_ going on that I physically cannot wait to unravel for you guys.**

 **(Hey, this is just an update for three weeks later. I'm about 18 pages into episode seven, but school has started and I am struggling to get a good footing and relearn how to balance work and school and keeping up with my deadlines on this site, so I may need to go into a short hiatus until I have a solid routine. I apologize for any inconvenience, and I will return as soon as is possible. Love you all!)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Episode 7: Lost Tapes**

The resolution on the camera was a bit dodgy, but it would do.

Bea smiled at the camera. A red dot beeped in one of the corners, and white lines traced the corners of the screen. She was in an electronic store, holding the camera to her face.

Her uncle got into frame. "What're you doin' that for?"

"Don't you _get_ it?" Then she said into the camera, "It's okay, he's an outsider, don't you mind him."

"Aren't you even gonna explain to me why you dragged me here to get these cameras?" He asked as he gave the money to the cashier off frame. "Go ahead an' keep the change there."

"Uncle C, it's for science." Whispering into the camera she clarified, "I hear Crick say this all the time, it works. Speaking of Crick, why don't we catch up with her at our apartment, shall we?" She covered the lens with her hand.

…

"I said it's not a date! It's not a date, okay? Leave it alone." Cricket shoved an extra shirt into a pack in her bedroom. She was all ready to go. Bea had positioned the camera on a shelf, hidden by a jar with a firefly in it. The frame covered a good portion of her room. On the opposite wall another shelf buzzed with various life forms in jars and glass habitats. Cricket was becoming quite the collector.

"Tell me, tell me how it's not a date." Bea pressed, laid down on Cricket's bed.

"I told you, Silas and I are going to investigate something." She zipped up the last pocket of the pack and fixed one of the gloves on her hand. In the mirror, she resembled some of the most kick butt characters from her favorite TV shows. With her black jacket, now sewn back together, her gloves, and her hair pulled back with three bobby pins.

"Uh, duh, yeah you are." Bea's head hung upside down over the side of the bed. She pressed her hands on her chest. "Investigating your true feelings for each other!" She gushed, stealing a mischievous glance at her hidden camera.

"That's not how it is!" Cricket snapped. "Okay, I'm leaving in twenty minutes, do you need anything else?"

The firefly in the jar blocked the view for a few seconds, but it soon buzzed off.

"No. Except to go with you two." Bea begged. "Please, please let me go."

"Definitely not." Cricket studied the big cast on Bea's left leg. That would be there for a good long while. "And you know why."

"Uuugghh, but it's been so boring! And the doctor said I can still walk around. It's just a twisted ankle. It'll be better in three weeks, tops." Bea waved her leg up and down.

"Sure you can walk," Cricket agreed, "but can you run? Can you fight? I think not." She left the room. Bea took out the second camera from her pocket, already recording, and the image turned into that of her face.

"She bought it."

…

Bea kept her main camera focused on her while she explained the situation. The upward angle was a most unflattering one. She walked the halls of the complex, explaining her plan.

"Alrighty so… Cricket's going through this 'kick butt' phase where she apparently isn't scared of anything anymore, which is great, don't get me wrong, but this is _also_ her first date. Her first date that isn't a prank though."

Bea descended the stairs. The camera bounced as she did so. "My original plan was to only get one camera, for a reason I'll explain to you later, but I got the other one ultimately because I cannot physically not talk to a person for that long, and- but I need to be a sneaky sneak while I trail Cricket and her new boyfriend. I ship it B T dubs. I call it Silet, hashtag Silet. Connor's doing something, Lolo's doing something, everyone's doing something, so it's just me and you. And that's fine. It'll be like a documentary of Crick's first time knowingly and willingly defeating a monster- other than ole Nessie two days ago- and- but also it's her first date and I need it on tape. So, yeah." Bea took a leap off the last few steps and walked hurriedly to the lounge where she heard some voices. As she neared, some voices became clearer. The camera caught the view of the L- shaped couch in the lobby, TV still absent and the chords hanging off the wall. A guy walking past stared curiously for a second at the lens.

When Bea got to the doorway to the lounge, she hid the camera behind her back but angled the lens so it would catch the scene. Cricket was talking to Joel who was blending a mysterious beige substance in a blender. As always, he let her do all the talking.

"Is it supposed to be chunky?" Cricket stared at the liquefying 'drink' with intense distress. Joel narrowed his eyes and watched the slosh spin in the container.

A tremor shook her body and her teeth chattered. "Pull yourself together. Joel drinks a whole blender full of this every morning, it's edible, don't be a baby. It… it _is_ edible, right? The protein shake?" She asked him, pointing at the gruesome gunk.

She got silence in return. Joel's nostrils flared as he sniffed the substance and pressed the button to stop blending. Cricket held her cup out and Joel filled it to the brim. A congealed drop streamed down the cup, releasing a small cloud of fumes. In fact, the cup radiated a soft yellow- green glow. She jumped and moved her finger away from the drop, unwilling to come in contact with it. Cricket gulped, holding the cup as far away as her arm would extend. "Thanks. I've got to get into the habit of having one of these every day from now on." She laughed nervously. But all she did was hold it and look like she was dreading every second of her life she had to watch it fester. It was an uncomfortable silence for her, having Joel stare at her, then the cup.

Bea whispered into the camera, "Every day, Crick? Are you out of your mind? You'll have the worst breath, Silas won't kiss you after that! Oh jeez!"

From the bottom of the cup, a small stream of the sludge ran out and fell to the ground. It had dissolved through the bottom. Cricket stepped away to avoid the splash, but there was none. It was like Jell-O. Joel quickly scooped the cup up in his specially made metal one, complete with a lid. He gave it to Cricket, and she mumbled a thank you.

"But you know what? I, I just remembered I had a very filling meal, so I will just have to save this for the trip. But thank you very much." Cricket screwed the top on, cutting off the flow of the dread- inducing fog emanating from the substance. And she stuffed it in her pocket and patted it. "Mmm, I'll enjoy this later." She said with hollow appreciation.

Bea snickered. "Yeah, fake sincerity has never been her thing. Well, good. Now she can have good breath for when the moment co-"

"Bea, who are you talking to?" Cricket asked, abruptly ending the period of light- heartedness.

"Talking? I wasn't-" Bea fumbled. Some footsteps sounded off frame. "Un-cle- C!" She enunciated every syllable and secretively angled the camera toward her uncle who was casually walking to his desk, eating a candy bar. He was momentarily surprised and his eyes darted around.

"I was talking to Uncle C, isn't that right?" Bea angled the camera back to her face where she locked eyes with him, unblinking, and giving the most generic, most eerie smile. The camera focused on him again.

"Ahhh… sure." He said shrugging, and went to his desk.

"Nailed it." Bea whispered.

"So you don't need anything else before I go?" asked her sister.

This time when Bea spoke it was obvious she was acting, feigning resignation at the unwavering decision to leave her out of the adventure. "Ah, no. You have fun though, Crick."

"I'll try- and hey, maybe that lady'll be back tonight, that could be fun." Cricket offered to cheer her up.

"Maybe." Bea agreed. She watched her exit the double doors. "Byyyyyyeeeee." She said. As soon as the doors closed, Bea whipped the camera up to her face. "And that's where the other camera comes in."

…

She pushed her way out of the lobby doors and into the woods, still talking to her inanimate friend. "You see, for the last two nights this really mean lady has come to have a talk with our uncle. Each one so far has been utterly priceless. She's complained about every possible thing someone could find to complain about. Now, I've been planning this night for the last two hours because meticulousness is key, and I knew immediately that that conversation was one I couldn't miss in case she came back tonight, sooo…"

…

The view switched to that of the lobby. The secondary camera was balanced somewhere near the ceiling, with a perfect view of Cisco's desk. A portion of a blade from the ceiling fan was visible, giving the impression that Bea had somehow gotten it balanced on the fan.

Cisco turned a page on his magazine, while unbeknownst to him, the ceiling fan was monitoring his every move.

…

"I found somewhere to put it where he wouldn't see it, so I won't have missed a thing when Crick and I come back." Dark shadows dappled Bea's body. She turned the camera around to catch the view of the West forest. It bobbed as she walked. "Now, where did they go…? I thought I saw Crick heading this way. Or was it more…" She pointed the camera right, "that way?"

Over to the left some rustling was heard. "Ooh, it's that way!" Bea squeaked excitedly. She started walking loudly, trampling the shrubs under her. Multiple branches and leaves flew into frame. Bea stopped herself. "Oh, oh, right, I need to be quiet. Sneaky sneak style, here we go." She made her way to the rustling noises much quieter this time. "This dumb cast." She cursed. She crouched down and her hand moved some braches from the view of the lens. Beyond it, Cricket and Silas were talking twenty feet away.

"It was a good thing you pulled your hair back, for battling anything a clear line of sight is necessary." Silas told her while adjusting the aim on his crossbow. He had his back to the camera.

"Okay. Do you think this worm will be hard to catch?"

"Who, the metal-melting worm? No, not a chance. It's eaten an upwards of eight cars over the last two and a half days. After it digests the metal, it spits it back out in random shapes. Those will be scattered around the forest. If we find one, that means we're close. Finding it is not the issue though. It's finally putting an end to its rampage that will be the real zinger."

"And how do you know all of this again?" She asked. Her eyes were clouded over with anxiety. She tried loading an arrow into her own crossbow Silas had lent her. It was a lighter frame, lighter- colored wood, and much newer, with green tipped arrows.

"Well about three years ago it ate my friend's car. I found it and scared it off in time before it tried to eat him too. So now it's just a thing I do. I figured I had the experience to take it down, so why not?"

Cricket fumbled for a few more seconds before he took it in his own hands and loaded with incredible ease, snapping the arrow into position. Then he gave it back to her, and she stared at it and gulped. He shot his arrow at a tree and reloaded within two seconds. "And that right there is something you'll learn to do in time."

"So… I've been meaning to ask… what happened between you and the Werevamps? You said you had a history with them?" Cricket pried at the subject as delicately as she could.

He sighed.

Bea's hushed voice drowned out Silas's. She used a high pitched voice to imitate her sister, and a lower pitch to play Silas.

*High pitched* "I've never met someone as _immeasurably handsome_ as you!"

*Low pitched* "You are the most charming woman I've ever laid eyes on!" Silas got on one knee to tie his shoe while he talked. Both faces were serious, which made Bea's interpretation of the conversation that much more ridiculous. "Marry me!"

*High pitch* "Oh I thought you'd never ask! Yes!"

An involuntary loud snort came out of her mouth, and she quickly covered it with her hand. In an instant, Silas had shot an arrow in the direction of the noise, eyes wide and cold. The camera shuffled around, as Bea had flattened herself against the grass to avoid the arrow.

"Wh… what does the worm sound like?" Cricket's timid voice piped up while Silas's heavy footsteps came closer to Bea.

"It's this screechy type call. You can hear it from a mile away." He didn't quiet his voice as Cricket had.

"Then what's that over there?"

The footsteps stopped. "It's… it could… sorry, I need to calm down." He was mere foot from Bea's position. She had the camera angled to her face, eyes darting around. She moved the camera so the lens could catch their legs as they left in search of the worm. Cricket's were brisk and she left frame quickly. Silas's lingered for a short while, but he too left. The footsteps vanished and blended in with the natural sounds of the woods. Bea got back up and dusted herself off. When she got the camera facing her again, she had dust on her face and a twig sticking out of her hair. She looked behind her, moving out of the way of the camera's view. An arrow stuck out of a tree, having splintered the wood around it. It had nearly hit her.

"Ooh, a souvenir!" She plucked the arrow from the tree. "… I'm so proud of her, y'know. Look at her, out here with a boy, chasing away some worm." She went on, stepping over the bushes and tailing the duo. She was quite obviously limping from the cast that was hindering any type of stealthy movement.

…

"Joel, check the mail, will ya'? I'm still waiting for my package to get here." Cisco ordered, not bothering to take his eyes off his magazine. His feet were propped up on his desk, and Joel had been partially in frame, sweeping. He set the broom down and went to go check the mail box. The sound of the door opening and closing was just as loud as it ever was, a simple creak and ringing of a bell. Everything was idle except the soft red of the light at the top left corner of the frame that beeped to indicate that it was filming. The timer at the bottom right read _1 hour and 44 minutes._ But the next sound was a percussive swing and bang as someone stalked inside. When she entered frame, the uneventful mood of the lobby shifted. The woman was of a tall, sturdy frame with wide hips. She wore high waisted jeans, a purple capped sleeve shirt with ruffles down the front, various rings adorned her fingers, and she held an inconveniently large designer bag. Her hair was bright brown with clean cut streaks of blonde and cut in a bob style, with the longest strands at the front of her face. When Cisco saw her, he dropped his magazine.

"Wait, no, Joel come back! Joel come back-"

She cut him off. "Sir, I would like to speak to someone who works here!" She started, and Cisco sighed and buried his hands in his face. He was the epitome of a broken man right then.

"I work here, ma'am. We've seen each other at the same time at the same place for the last two nights."

"Alright then. I am unhappy."

His monotonous tone reflected a rehearsed script that he was inclined to recite when confronted with an "unhappy" customer. "Ma'am, we are delighted to assist you in any way we can. May I ask what the trouble is?" He asked, through his hands.

"Your communal living space is unacceptable!" She stated.

Cisco thought she would have an earful to say the least, but hearing no more he lifted his head, losing his professional lingo. "Wu'what's wrong with it?"

"Other people sit on the couches!"

He stared at her with disbelief. "That's because it's a _communal_ area, ma'am."

"Don't get technical with me! I don't know where other people have been. And I do not want my backside touching where other people's backsides have touched. I won't have it!"

He shook his head. "Then don't sit on the couches. That's all I've got for you."

"But that is where I visit my mother who lives here every other month, how'm I to do that now?"

Cisco sunk his head deeper into his hands. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"Assigned seats of course! It's the only way I'll keep visiting her."

…

Bea kept the camera pointed at her, and for the first time since turning it on, she was looking away, lost in thought. Her bright eyes were glazed over in deep concentration. "She… she had it tough. Her love of bugs got her teased, like a _lot,_ in school. Crick used to be a talker. She liked science, it was all she would ever talk about. So… this is big. He could be good for her. And, I _think_ … this is the first time she's going on an adventure… with someone who's not me."

Bea shook her head, smiling. She blinked several times before her eyes got that same mischievous glimmer in them. "But enough about the past, let's get on with the _present_! Ole Crick thought she could leave me behind, but I'm harder to get rid of than glitter! Seriously though, you can't even shower that stuff off."

"Woah!" A loud metal cling was heard at her feet and she hit the ground hard. Getting to her knees and rubbing her head, she pointed the camera to the source of her trip. On the forest floor lay a perfectly square cube of metal two feet by two feet. A thin layer of slime coated it. "Eeww, it's on my feet!" She kicked. "Uhh…" She stood up and faced the lens towards her. "What did Silas say about metal shapes? Somethin' 'bout the worm?"

Off to the right was a paralyzing humanoid scream. Bea jumped, and the camera nearly fumbled out of her hands. "What in the name of lasagna… worm? Wormy? Is that you?" The view tilted around for a while while Bea searched for the source.

 _"_ _That's the worm."_

 _"_ That's _the worm?"_

"Ooh, it's Crick and her boyfriend! Gotta hide!" Bea dove into some bushes. She found a space for the camera to get a glimpse of the scene. Cricket and Silas emerged from the trees. Cricket was shaking, arrow bouncing around on her crossbow. But Silas was silent, watching his surroundings intently. He clenched and unclenched his hands around the polished wood of his weapon.

Cricket gulped. "Uh, so, what did you have planned to help it?"

"Huh? Help what?" He was too concentrated to pay attention to her.

"The worm. It's eating cars for a reason." Her eyes darted around as she watched for movement.

"I haven't thought that far ahead yet." He shook his head, eyes going to his crossbow. But the tiny bit of lost focus had been everything.

Out of nowhere, a brown spikey ball tumbled heavily through the trees. "Move!" Silas dove out of the way of the ball, but Cricket wasn't fast enough. The ball unfurled as it reached her revealing a pair of glowing fleshy pink eyes that bulged out of its head. Its jaw unhinged and it hovered over her. The camera only caught a side view of the worm. It had many rows of white teeth, and two pink mandibles lining the top and bottom of its mouth that each moved in a different pattern. It had seven pairs of short stubby legs, with the ones nearest its soft glowing eyes being much larger than the rest. Its back looked like an oversized pinecone, and its underbelly was light brown and squishy, divided by sections, each connected with a pair of legs.

Cricket stumbled backward. Silas called to her, "Go for its stomach, that's where it's most vulnerable!" He stayed where he was for a time.

Meanwhile, Cricket was trying to aim her crossbow at its underbelly without it killing her. An acid- like substance drooled out of its mouth. Gobs of the stuff fell from its mandibles and landed on the ground, where it sizzled and dissolved holes in the dirt.

From her hiding spot, Bea fretted. "C'mon, Crick, you can do it. Oh, Silas, I hope you know what you're doing."

The former Werevampolfire hunter watched for a while, waiting for his partner to shoot. When it was apparent that she could not, he dove into action, shooting it in the back. The arrow barely made a dent in its scales. It turned around and screamed. Rolling into a ball, the worm tore in his direction. Silas expertly avoided it and shot again. The arrow hit one of the narrow strips of flesh exposed on its back as its scales moved around.

The worm arched its back, howling. Silas reloaded and shot at its stomach. But it dodged and sped off into the forest. His stare lingered on the trampled underbrush in its wake before running to Cricket's side. He kneeled down. "Are you okay?"

"She'd better be or I'm pummeling ya." Bea growled.

"Um, yeah I'm okay…" She trailed off when she met his eyes. He inspected her arms and legs for injuries. Then he looked at her.

"Ooh. Now kiss now kiss now kiss." Bea whispered excitedly. "Jeez Crick, you're staring." Her sister's cheeks turned red and she laughed nervously. Silas lifted an eyebrow. He clasped her hands with his and helped her up.

"Don't worry about it, newbie. Everyone has slipups at first, but you'll get the hang of it." He reassured her. She blushed at the sight of their hands holding and tried to answer him. Her cheeks flushed and instead she looked away.

"Darn it! If not right then when, Crick? That was the perfect opportunity, wasted." Bea fumed. "It's almost like I didn't even have a good _reason_ to buy this twenty five dollar camcorder!"

"We can stop if you want." Silas offered. Cricket let go of his hands like they were a hot stove.

"What? No, no! I have to learn to protect myself." She insisted. Her cheeks lost their pinkness.

"Okay then. Well, the worm went that way; it's a good place to start." Silas started for the trail left by the ball, pulling the arrows he'd shot out of trees as he went.

"This love story's getting off track. I've got to help it along somehow." Bea decided. The duo moved out of frame soon enough and when they did, the redhead scrambled out of the bushes. Something caught on a branch and she tripped. Shaking her cast, which was tangled in the bushes, she cursed. It came free and she was on her way.

…

"And your coffee's a joke! The cream just disappears after two minutes!" She put her hands on her hips.

Cisco's expression was a mixture of anger, disbelief, and utter shock. "It… it, it's a hot drink lady. It melts things, nothing's 'disappeared'."

"But the picture above the counter has whipped topping on it. How come that hasn't melted by now too?"

"Ma'am I would rather not try to insult your intelligent by explaining the difference between a picture and the real thing."

"I want the topping to stay on top, is that too much to ask?"

Cisco narrowed his eyes.

…

"This is a swanky doodle, so I thought I'd show you." Bea was pointing the camera at a tree, where someone had etched a symbol. It was an isosceles triangle with a line bisecting it, and a symmetrical curved line at either end of the tip sloping down ward to make a frown. "I saw another one a little while ago. It could be a tag. Tags are cool. I once saw a tv show about a turf war and they used spray paint to tag a gas station. I've done art with spray paint, I used my favorite color, sunset color. And even though it helps with getting a misty texture, it's not that great for accuracy. You have to have a big canvas to work with spray paint, plus the right kind of canvas, paper is usually not good unless it's the really thick kind- _Man,_ you're a good listener! See I told you I'm a talker!" She laughed.

A sharp cry darkened the mood. "Woah, what's going on? Crick?" The sound came from beyond her small clearing. "I'm fallin' behind, I'm gonna miss everything!" She hobbled as fast as she could toward the fight.

Moving some leafy branches out of her way, she witnessed the most intense fight she'd ever seen in person. This time, Cricket was handling herself quite well. The worm's back arched and it screamed. The arrow piercing the only exposed spot on its back had broken in half, giving it more room to imbed itself deeper in its flesh every time its scales contracted.

Cricket and Silas were more of a team this time, with Silas taking the lead and his apprentice taking up the rear, going for distance shots instead of taking the worm head on.

It rolled into a ball and threw up dirt in its wake as it barreled toward them. They leapt out of the way, and Cricket skid along the ground as she let an arrow loose. The shot missed, but her aim was getting better. The worm screamed at her and slid closer. But Silas fired while its back was turned and nicked the arrow imbedded in its flesh. It compacted its body into a ball and rolled around aimlessly. The pain was hindering its ability to sense its direction, and it collided with tree after tree.

"Intense." Bea breathed. The worm's immense shape came closer and closer to her. Uncomfortably close. "Woah!" She exclaimed and took a few steps back, but she misjudged how close it would get and it ended up crashing into her. The camera fell from her hands, left facing the forest floor. Darkness.

Bea groaned. The sound of the worm crunching dry leaves and churning soil became fainter and fainter until it was gone.

 _"_ _It's getting away! Follow it!"_ Silas ordered.

 _"_ _No wait! I hear something. Over there."_ Cricket's light footsteps were heard getting closer. A loud clank shook the camera as Cricket stepped on it.

 _"_ _Wha- Bea?! What on earth are you doing here?"_

 _"_ _Bea? Oh, you mean your sister?"_

There was a long pause. The camera was lifted off the ground and turned toward Silas's face. He studied it, turning it over in his hands and wiping the dirt from it.

 _"_ _Uhh… for… science?"_

 _"_ _I specifically_ told _you to stay home!"_ Cricket scorned.

Silas turned the lens over to the girls. Bea was dusting off her cast, on the spot where Connor had signed it "Conman :]". Other names dotted the cast such as _Hunter, Jacob, Sierra, Payton, Devin, Erin, Ryan…_

"Bea, go home." She ordered.

"But I wanted to see your da-"

"Shh! Shh! Don't say that, for the last time this is not a-" She lowered her tone. "-date."

"Is everything okay?" Asked Silas, walking over to them.

Cricket glanced at the camera. "Everything's great. She was just leaving."

"You found my camera!" Bea took it in her hands and pointed it around. "Don't make me go home! What if the worm comes back and it's just me? _And_ \- and, what if I could document your first victory? Then you could watch it over and over again." She pleaded.

Cricket crossed her arms and looked up.

"Crick, I came to watch you. Moral support and all that. You've got this."

Cricket breathed in, and let it all out. "…fine. If only because it's not safe to be by yourself."

Bea squealed with delight.

"But!" Her sister interjected, "You have to listen to everything I say."

"No problem. Lead the way, Worm Slayer!"

…

"And what's the deal with your décor? It's depressing! Have you ever tried renovating this place?!"

He shot up, his hand bumping a cup full of pencils that fell onto the floor. "That's like the first legitimate complaint I've ever heard from you!"

"So will you do something about it?" She asked annoyingly.

He faltered. "I don't currently have the funds, y'see my nieces are staying with me-"

"What, so now that you have family issues now my needs are put on hold? Me? The _customer_?" She dramatically put a hand on her chest.

Cisco opened his mouth, ready for a retort.

…

"So this creature is another one of the ones not documented in the Journal. I only know what Silas has told me about it. It consumes metal and regurgitates it back out into shapes…" Cricket had been talking into the camera for a good half hour straight about her new technique, what she knew so far of the Journal, and now about the worm. She'd let her guard down and no longer seemed irritated that Bea had decided to follow them. They trailed farther behind Silas who was searching for any sign of the worm.

"I tripped over a metal thing! It was all slimy."

"Yes that means it's fresh. It has acid that helps to liquefy the metal before its body contracts and the metal gets fused into any number of shapes. That's my theory anyway. The problem is I can't further study it and never will. It's dangerous, it eats people." Cricket brought her crossbow into frame, and fiddled with the arrow. "I never thought I'd be doing anything other than studying these things. Who knew I'd have to hurt them."

"Oh," Bea said somberly. "That's a bummer. Where does it come from?"

"Its origin? No idea. Silas?"

The camera panned to Silas who was well ahead of them, scouring the trees. "I don't know. I've never found traces of a den of any kind."

"Yeah but where do you think it _came_ from?" Bea asked. "Like how it was born?"

"I have no idea." He admitted. "It's too heavy to have come from a nest in the trees, it's not aquatic and it tends to stay near caves."

"Okay. So how are you gonna quote on quote 'stop it from eating cars'?" This was a heavier question.

"The only permanent way there is." He said without turning around. "The sooner it's destroyed the sooner everyone will be safe from it."

Cricket squirmed at this. "That's what I was afraid of."

"Everyone stop!" Silas ordered after twenty minutes of silence save for Bea softly beatboxing a steady rhythm that she synced to Cricket's footsteps whether she tried to slow down or speed up. The camera shot to him. He held his fist up. Halt. "It's close." All movement ceased. The only moving thing was the soft beep of the red dot at the corner of the frame. It read 2:54:41.

Some leaves rustled off to the right. A scream echoed off the trees.

"I can't have you too close to it. Stay here, we'll scout ahead." She said to Bea.

"Aw, what?" She complained off frame. "But you said-"

"I _said_ for you to do whatever I say. And I'm telling you stay put. Play with the camera until we get back."

"No, at least take it with you! I want to see everything. Please." She pleaded with her sister.

"…Okay." Cricket's face neared the camera and she took it in her hands, narrowing her eyes at it. Then she turned the lens around and said to Silas. "Let's go do what we have to do." He nodded and they headed for the worm.

…

"This crossbow's getting heavier by the second." Cricket said grimly.

"It gets easier with time." He reassured her.

She brought Bea's camera closer to her face, but it took her a while to say anything. "Silas won't open up about his past with the Werevamps, I tried asking about it and all he told me was that he didn't like discussing it with other people. Guess that's a story for another day. And about the killing thing…" She sighed. "If this is what it takes to learn to protect myself, then this is what I have to do. Like Silas said: it gets easier with time. If he believes it… I trust him." She said the last part with a tinge of uncertainty.

The sound of two pairs of footsteps had slowly become one, something Cricket had been too busy having a one way conversation to notice it. She stopped. The camera fell to her side. She spun around. "Silas?"

No answer. She took a few steps in one direction, and then a few steps back. "Silas?" She called again, a hint of agitation in her voice. "Did we get split up? Oh no, oh no."

A loud hiss came from the trees in front of her. The camera lens captured the whole scene. The worm slithered out of the shadows. Its back now dripped oddly colored liquid where the arrow had pierced its flesh. Its mandibles vibrated as its vocal chords produced the chill- inducing noise, acid dripping all over the floor. It stopped near her, and drew back. It hissed again, coiling its body. Cricket took a step back, and the lens caught a glimpse of her face. Instead of being scared, she was staring curiously at it, brow furrowed. The next moment it let out a screech, the lens flipped back to it, and it lunged for her. Cricket screamed as the worm's mandibles closed around her wrist and the camera along with it. It opened and closed its jaws, unhinging them as it did so. When small streams of light could stream through its mouth, the camera caught what the inside of the infamous car- eating worm looked like. Rows of secondary teeth lined its throat, designed to crush hard metal. However, they did not crush the human it was swallowing. It didn't need to. Its stomach was spotted brown and lined with slime. Columns of it hung from the roof. Through some parts of its stomach walls, bumps poked through, presumably the frame of an exoskeleton.

The camera's last glimpse of the outside showed Silas bolting through a line of shrubs. His legs slid from under him as he tried to slow down enough to help his companion. But the worm's mandibles closed, and Cricket's world was plunged into darkness.

…

"I am unhappy!" The woman repeated for the umpteenth time. Anyone who could possibly be in the lobby had vacated on account of the cringe- inducing back and forth going on between the manager and customer.

Cisco was reaching the end of his rope. He'd slumped down and his upper half was laying on the desk. He waved one hand around and peeked at her through the other. "Well, seeing as how your base and only personality trait is being unhappy I can only assume that by you feeling the need to express this fact yet again, you mean something more specific. So what is it now?"

"Why is this place so empty?!"

"You've scared everyone away." He said, monotonously.

"No, I mean where are all the other employees?" She waved her hands around. "All I ever see are you and that other guy. I wanna see the manager! You're not listening to me!"

His stood out to him. He got up. "…Oh yeah? You want to see the manager? I'm not good enough, right?" He had her.

"Absolutely not! You do not understand how this business works or apparently anything about the customer, you being the lowly employee that you are. I refuse to speak another word until I see the manager. " She crossed her arms.

Cisco hid a smirk. "Okay, if that's what you want." He turned around and took a few steps away, then strode up to the desk once again. "Good evening to you ma'am. I am the manager of this fine establishment and am delighted to assist you in any way I can." He said the next words smoothly. "How can I help you?"

"You… you-you're the-!" She turned as red as a tomato, a shade that was not very far off from her original color which was two day old salon spray tan. She gathered herself enough to give him a deadly scowl and see herself out.

When the door had closed, Cisco threw his fist in the air. "Ha ha! Yes!" He pointed at the door. "Yeah, that's right! I'm the flippin' _manager_. Have fun with your oversized bag and your cheap spray tan and your bad dye job, and your… your nine year old son's soccer game that you'll inappropriately cheer at the top of your lungs at. Everyone'll try to tell you it's not that intense of a game, but you won't listen, and you'll complain to the coach later on about the other parents being mean to you. You think you and the coach are friends, but you're _not_. Yeah."

At that moment, Joel barged in with a bar stool with the legs whittled into sharp points. He thrashed it around, knocking a one seat couch over.

"There's no need for the stool tonight Joel. She's already gone. And this time she's probably not coming back." Cisco said proudly. Joel put his weapon down and sighed deeply. Then he turned his head in the direction of the camera. Its strategic placement may have fooled Cisco, but almost nothing could get past him. He cocked his head at it while Cisco sat back in his chair and propped his legs up on the desk after a job well done. The timer on the screen read 3:23:12.

...

"I must be the dumbest person on the planet right now." Bea's face was lit up by the front- facing light on her phone. It had just started recording. "There was no need for two cameras, just the one! I always forget my phone has a recorder on it. Stupid." She smacked her forehead. "Well, I'm back anyways." She sat there for a moment, neither looking at her phone or anywhere else in particular.

"…I hope she isn't too mad at me. I… I know I can be a bit much sometimes. I don't think things through enough, I know that. But I never- I can never catch myself when I do it. It's always later when I think back on it that I realize… hmm…" She laughed. "That got deep." She smiled sadly at the camera, eyes half closed. "I'll have to delete this probably. Don't wanna take up a bunch of space on my phone." She stared into the lens for a while, lost in thought.

Her eyes fluttered, and she looked up. "Silas! You're back!" She jumped from her seat on the grassy floor and pointed her phone at him. His arms hung from his tired frame. He was heaving in and out, hair in a tattered mess, eyes a mix of anxiety, weariness, and desolation. In his hands were his crossbow, and Cricket's torn up pack. "Where's Crick? Is she cutting out its heart to bring home to Cisco?" Bea snorted. Then she sucked in a breath excitedly. "Well, I have a bit of news to confess to you that Crick is too scared to tell you herself…"

But Silas only glanced at her phone, the tiny red beeping light bouncing off his pupils, before staring off into space.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Bea walked over to him.

…

"I'm dead, I'm dead, this is what it's like to be dead, it's gross and slimy and dark, and I'm dead." Cricket mumbled between scared sobs. She sniffed. "What's this?" A few clicks and a bright light illuminated her face. She flinched from the sudden brightness, but then looked into the lens of the camera. Still recording. It was coated in a layer of slime, but she wiped it off, eyes wide. Her hair was plastered to her face by the digestive juices. Tears stained her face, and the ones that fell into the stomach acid sizzled when they came in contact with the liquid. "Thanks for the save, Bea." She patted the camera. She took a look around. "I… I'm inside it. This is the stomach cavity. There's limited oxygen in here and I estimate I'll run out in only a few minutes. My acid theory is holding up quite nicely." She spit out some juices that dripped from her face. After a while she said softly, "I don't wanna die here." She was rocked to one side, and let out a yelp.

"Ow! It's moving. According to my theory, this helps metal and… other potential material digest more quickly. I'd better turn the camera off soon. If for some reason this footage gets out, I do _not_ want people to see," She paused to find the right words. "to see what follows. But I will say this: Bea? I'm so happy to have had you by my side all this time, and you will never…" She choked back a sob. "You will never, _ever_ know how much your support through everything means to me." The moment was cut off by another bounce. She was thrown against the far wall of the worm's stomach.

"Agh! There's something underneath me, I just landed on it." Cricket fished Joel's 'protein shake' from her jacket pocket. She asked the camera, holding the cup up as if making a toast. "Last meal, huh?" She held the cup in between her knees and unscrewed the top. A cloud of green fog spilled out from it. "Oh, it's fermenting. That's great. Heh, what do ya think Joel would think if he'd never know if I drank this? Well here ya go." She angled the camera up to eye level. "I'll choke this thing down if it kills me; might be a better end than being digested alive." She shuddered. "This is for you, buddy." Cricket clinked the rim of the cup with the lens, and some of the liquid dripped and hit the stomach walls. The second it came in contact with the worm, it roared and Cricket was shaken back and forth.

When it settled down, she was covered in slime, but she no longer cared. A devious smile crept across her face.

…

"Okay so screw dying, basically." Cricket said quickly as she unskillfully dislodged the arrow from its place on her crossbow. It had been swallowed along with the worm. "Now, I've obviously never seen any textbook anatomical pictures of this worm's physiology, but like I've been saying, I have theories. I'm pulling all of my knowledge of different species of insect that most closely resemble this one and I'm figuring out where everything is. Come to think of it, it's always been my dream to explore the inside of an insect. Like if I was shrunk really really small, and was injected into a live bug. It was even a reoccurring dream of mine, and the insect was a praying mantis, my favorite bug. The female praying mantis that is. Although the males have to be pretty brave to get their heads torn off for the sake of reproduction and keeping their species alive- oh! Sorry about that, I don't normally go off on a tangent.

So what I have in mind is to open up a cavity in the worm's stomach and…" She pinned the camera between her chest and her neck so it could see everything. Her hands were in perfect view. In one hand she held the cup and with the other she used the arrow to dig a hole through the stomach tissue. "If I'm right, there should be… ah, aha." She murmured. "Here we go." And Cricket generously poured every last drop of the shake through the cavity. Instantly the worm shuddered and spat. Cricket's hands became tense and she clasped the green tipped arrow firmly, knuckles white. Its screams echoed through its body, causing Cricket to drop the camera. It landed face down. Dreadful sounds of convulsion and agonized roaring followed. The liquid goo inside the organ submerged the device, muting all noises from then on. The ruckus went on outside of this relatively peaceful pocket of space, the only sound other than blood pumping through the worm's body was the jiggling around of the camera's two double A batteries as the beast rampaged.

Then there was a sudden pop within its body, and all of the contents of its stomach were wretched out. Tumbling blindly, the recording device hit the cold ground face up. A new light reached the lens, the swaying of treetop branches above it while a layer of slime slowly thinned away on top. The worm became clearer to hear. It convulsed loudly one last time before lopping on its side with a thud, unmoving. A girl somewhere gasped as if her lungs had never tasted air before. She sloshed around until she was upright. Then she came into view. Cricket took a few seconds to simply stare at the piece of technology that had stayed trapped with her inside the literal belly of the beast, and then picked it up. She once again wiped stomach goo from her face, then stared directly into the lens.

"…And that's how it's done." She said to it, nodding. She admired its features for a moment, eyes lingering on the timer: 3:33:34 before she pressed "stop recording". It had seen enough for one day.

 **Hey all! So I finally had time between school, homework, and extra curricular activities to finish this episode. And I know it's slightly shorter than usual, but I promise I am now getting everything back on track!**

 **(And please please please remember to leave a review, it would help me so much to know what you think!)**


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